Q  W 

HISTRiCK 


/io 


// 


<L^ff-\^     •  I  <•  /         ^MlM'V/'"''  T 

'  ^     ' "    ^---,  -  v«  -^ ./"    ,  ^  '|VJ  1^  V ,   . 


V1   v    ^    '"  A''   -r|//"    '   '   ^ 

^v^-vfyS  'Alfmwiw  >/ 


THE    BEGINNING    OV    A    NEW    LIKE. 


HOWLING  WOLF 
AND  HIS  TRICK-PONY 


BY 

MRS   LIZZIE  W   CHAMPNEY 


Author  of 

The  Bubbling  Teapot 
In  the  Sky  Garden 

and  others 


MA  N  Y  ILL  US  TRA  TIO.VS 


BOSTON 
D    LOTHROP    COMPANY 

FRANKLIN    AND    HANVI.KY   STRKKTS 


COPYRIGHT,  1888, 

BY 
D.    LOTHROP    COMPANY. 


PRESSWOHK  BY  BtRWICK  4  SMITH,   BOSTON. 


TO    MY    SON, 

ED.    FRERE   CHAMPNEY, 

AN  AMIABLE  YOUNG  SAVAGE,  WHOSE  LOVE  FOR  HIS  PONY  EQUALS  THAI 
OF  HOWLING  WOLF,  THIS  STORY,  WHICH  WOULD  NEVER 
HAVE  BEEN  WRITTEN  WITHOUT  HIS  ASSIST- 
ANCE,  IS   AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  TRICK-PONY 9 

CHAPTER   II. 

THE  LOST   MEDICINE 24 

CHAPTER    III. 

A  RACE   FOR  LIFE  


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  HAUNTED  CASTLE 63 

CHAPTER   V 

THE  NAVAJO   BLANKET   WEAVER        .  .  .  .  85 

CHAPTER   VI. 

THE   LITTLE  SAGE-HEN Io8 

CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  GARDEN   OF  THE  GODS 1 29 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
~THE   SNAKE  DANCE 152 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  TURQUOISE   EAGLE 173 

CHAPTER   X. 

ON   THE  WAR-PATH 194 

CHAPTER   XI. 

WITH  GERONIMO 215 

CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  MEDICINE   FOUND 238 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  beginning  of  a  new  life       ....         Frontis. 

White  Wolf  threw  the  dollars  on  the  ground  .         .  19 

The  unused  schoolhouse  at  the  Ute  Agency     .         .  35 

Chief  Ouray  and  his  wife  Chipeta     ....  40 

"  The  enchanted  pony !"  cried  Ignacio      .         .         .  51 

The  pony  was  as  good  a  climber  as  a  chamois           .  67 

The  young  Navajo  shepherdess,  "  West  Wind  "       .  87 

The  blanket  weaver 92 

There  was  shouting  and  pursuit         .         .         .         .  117 

The  Royal  Gorge,  on  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  R.  R.  131 

In  the  Garden  of  the  Gods :  the  seal  and  the  bear  .  139 

Helen  meets  Grandmother  Two  Tongues          .        .  145 

Howling  Wolf  meets  "  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah  "      .         .  153 

The  Moqui  village  of  Wolpi 157 

A  Moqui  idol    .                           166 

A  Wolpi  basket         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  170 

Howling  Wolf  sends  his  message  to  the  Great  Spirit  183 

The  turquoise  eagle 188 

"  Let  go  my  bear !  "  shouted  the  strange  Indian         .  203 

Howling  Wolf  is  faithful  to  his  faithful  pony  .         .  232 


HOWLING   WOLF 
AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   TRICK-PONY. 

WHOOP  !  for  the  Captain  !  "     "  Go  it,  West 
Point !  "    "  Hooray  !  they're  off  again  !  " 
"  The  Captain's  crazy  !  he'll  break  the  mare's  legs. 
Jehu !  he's  jumped  from  the  band-stand." 
"  He'll  kill  himself,"  said  the  surgeon. 
"No,    he   won't,"  replied   the   Quartermaster; 
"no  horse   ever  failed  the   Captain.     The  mare 
couldn't  do  it  with  any  other  rider,  but  put  the 
Captain  in  the  saddle  and  he  could  lift  her  over 
the  Black  Canon.     He  can  get  the  last  inch  out 
of  a  horse  that  it's  capable  of.     There's  a  new 
spirit  in  the  beast  the  minute  he's  astride  of  it." 
9 


10          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

The  garrison  had  turned  out  to  a  man  to  wit- 
ness the  race,  and  the  few  ladies  of  the  frontier 
Post  were  grouped  on  the  veranda  of  the  Colonel's 
house  which  overlooked  the  parade-ground.  Only 
a  trifle  was  required  to  awaken  interest  in  the  un- 
eventful life  of  the  Post,  and  when  the  news  was 
handed  from  man  to  man  that  Captain  Hodge 
had  challenged  Lieutenant  Archer  to  a  trial  of 
horsemanship  the  entire  community  were  enthusi- 
astic. Captain  Hodge  was  the  best  rider  in  the 
regiment ;  his  feats  were  known  for  miles  around, 
while  the  Lieutenant,  fresh  from  West  Point,  was 
an  unknown  quantity.  There  were  rumors,  how- 
ever, that  the  West  Point  Riding  Academy  had 
never  graduated  a  more  daring  pupil,  and  a  fine 
display  of  horsemanship  on  both  sides  was  ex- 
pected. 

Among  the  lookers-on  who  framed  the  parade- 
ground  was  a  little  group  of  three  Indians,  who 
stood  holding  their  ponies  and  regarding  the 
preparations  with  keen  interest.  The  youngest 
was  a  boy  of  twelve,  whose  clothing  consisted  of  a 
strip  of  cotton-cloth  about  his  loins,  a  pair  of  buck- 


THE   TRICK-PONY.  II 

skin  leggings  elaborately  embroidered  and  fringed, 
and  moccasons  to  match.  A  necklace  of  blue  beads 
and  moose-teeth  decorated  his  chest,  which  was 
bare  and  tattooed  ;  his  hair  was  long,  and  had  the 
glossy  blue  tints  of  the  plumage  of  a  crow.  His 
pony's  lariat  was  wound  about  one  arm ;  the  other 
was  twined  about  the  pony's  neck.  The  boy 
seemed  more  sensitive  than  Indians  generally,  for 
when  stared  at  instead  of  answering  the  look  with 
one  of  scornful  indifference  he  hid  his  face  shyly 
in  his  pony's  wavy  mane. 

Captain  Hodge  and  Lieutenant  Archer  rode  up 
from  the  stables  in  company.  Both  noticed  the 
Indians,  and  the  Lieutenant  inquired  how  they 
came  there. 

"They've  been  hanging  round  the  sutler's, 
changing  sheep-skins  for  whiskey,"  was  the  reply. 

"Sheep-skins!  do  the  Utes  keep  sheep?'' 

"Certainly;  our  sutler  buys  them  for  a  mere 
nothing.  It's  to  his  interest  to  trade  with  them, 
but  if  I  had  my  way  I'd  shoot  every  Indian  off  his 
Reservation." 

"  Why  ? " 


12  HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"Oh,  one  can  see  you  are  just  from  the  East. 
Wait  till  you've  been  here  six  months  before  you 
talk  Injun."  And  the  Captain  reined  in  his  horse 
before  the  band-stand  and  discussed  the  conditions 
of  the  contest  with  the  umpires.  It  was  decided 
that  Captain  Hodge  was  to  take  the  lead  as  chal- 
lenger, that  Lieutenant  Archer  should  follow,  re- 
peating every  performance  of  the  Captain's  or 
acknowledge  himself  beaten. 

The  Captain  rode  a  sorrel  mare  which  he  had 
taught  to  leap,  until  it  was  the  best  hurdle-racer 
in  the  command.  He  set  out  at  once,  leaping  all 
the  barriers  about  the  parade-ground.  The  Lieu- 
tenant followed,  taking  them  as  easily  on  his  gray 
horse.  Captain  Hodge  rode  his  mare  finally  up 
the  steps  of  the  band-stand  and  then  forced  her 
to  leap  the  low  barrier  with  the  added  descent  of 
three  or  four  feet.  Lieutenant  Archer  settled 
himself  a  little  more  firmly,  rode  swiftly  to  the 
platform,  and  spurred  his  horse  to  the  jump.  But 
the  animal  refused,  rearing  and  plunging,  and 
finally  dashing  down  the  steps  and  caracoling 
about  the  parade. 


THE   TRICK-PONY.  13 

"  You  have  failed,"  said  the  judges  ;  "  we  must 
award  the  victory  to  Captain  Hodge." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen,"  replied  the 
Lieutenant,  "  but  the  failure  cannot  be  imputed 
to  my  horsemanship.  It  was  my  horse  who  re- 
fused the  flying  leap  which  the  Captain's  took  so 
gracefully.  If  Captain  Hodge  will  lend  me  his 
mare,  I  will  do  it  at  once.  I  will  even  agree  to 
take  the  lead  and  will  give  him  a  few  feats  quite 
as  difficult  of  performance  as  the  leap  from  the 
band-stand." 

"  Let  him  take  her,"  said  the  Captain  grimly. 

"But  where  will  you  find  a  mount?"  asked 
one. 

The  Captain  closed  one  eye  mysteriously,  and 
walked  over  to  the  little  group  of  Indians.  There 
was  some  bargaining,  and  the  Captain  counted 
slowly  into  the  older  Indian's  hand  ten  Mexican 
silver  dollars.  The  Indian  boy  watched  this 
keenly,  and  when  his  father  at  length  gave  a 
grunt  of  satisfaction  he  handed  the  Captain  his 
lariat,  at  the  same  time  burying  his  face  in  his 
pony's  mane,  with  something  which  sounded  like 


14          HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

a  sob.  The  Captain  lengthened  the  Mexican 
stirrups,  tightened  the  girth  and  rode  back. 

"  I  have  my  mount,"  he  said  coolly. 

Some  soldiers  chatting  near  the  field-pieces 
raised  a  cheer.  They  recognized  the  animal  as  a 
famous  trick-pony  which  had  beaten  in  the  races 
at  Durango  the  previous  autumn. 

"  The  Captain's  in  luck  to  be  able  to  get  hold 
of  that  pony  just  now,"  one  of  them  said.  "Don't 
you  remember  how  White  Wolf  ran  it  against  the 
best  horse  entered  —  a  Kentucky  thoroughbred  ? 
The  poor  little  rat  looked  ready  to  drop  from  the 
work  it  had  already  done  in  bringing  its  master 
and  his  son  from  the  Reservation,  but  White  Wolf 
took  off  the  saddle,  and  hoisted  that  little  chap  on 
bareback,  and  then  you  should  have  seen  the  dust 
fly !  That  race  is  famous  all  over  the  West.  The 
boy  cut  up  all  sorts  of  monkey-shines  on  the  run- 
ning pony.  First  he  would  lie  alongside  holding 
on  with  one  foot  and  a  hand  clutching  the  mane 
(as  they  protect  their  bodies  with  their  horses 
when  they're  circling  round  you  on  the  war-path). 
Then  he'd  dance  like  a  circus  rider,  and  finally 


THE   TRICK-PONY.  15 

the  little  ape  sat  with  his  knees  drawn  up  to  his 
chin,  facing  the  jockey  who  rode  the  thorough- 
bred, and  making  faces  at  him  as  he  came  in  ' 
about  a  length  ahead.  The  Indians  call  it  the 
Enchanted  Pony.  They  made  a  good  thing  that 
day,  for  they  had  betted  heavily,  and  we  were  all 
about  as  surprised  as  we  could  be." 

"Can  it  jump  as  well  as  run?"  asked  one. 

"Like  a  Jack-rabbit,"  replied  the  first  speaker. 
"  But  hush,  they're  off.  That  young  West  Point 
fellow  will  break  his  neck  next  he  knows." 

Indeed  this  conclusion  seemed  not  unlikely,  for 
mounted  on  the  Captain's  mare,  Lieutenant  Arch- 
er circled  about  the  field  in  the  most  reckless 
manner  possible.  Off  from  the  band-stand,  as 
easily  as  before,  over  three  Catling  guns  one  after 
another  in  quick  succession,  past  the  Infantry 
quarters,  and  over  a  pile  of  lumber  where  the 
carpenters  were  at  work  building  new  barracks ; 
and  always  and  everywhere  the  Captain  followed 
on  the  Indian  pony,  leaping,  running  neck  to 
neck,  repeating  every  manoeuvre  with  exactness. 
The  crowd  of  excited  spectators  ran  after  them, 


1 6          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONV. 

cheering  each  fresh  exploit,  and  taking  sides 
noisily  in  favor  of  the  Captain  or  the  Lieutenant ; 
all  talking  and  running  themselves  breathless  with 
the  exception  of  the  Indians,  who  ran  silently,  and 
apparently  without  exertion  at  the  head  of  the 
crowd,  the  long-haired  boy  coming  up  to  pat  the 
pony  at  every  pause  in  the  feats. 

Suddenly  the  entire  chattering  throng  were  still. 
Had  the  West  Point  man  taken  leave  of  his  senses, 
that  he  should  attempt  such  a  daring,  such  an  im- 
possible, feat  as  this  ?  There  stood  the  new  bar- 
racks, a  long  half-finished  building ;  the  walls  were 
up  and  the  beams  ready  for  the  flooring  which  was 
not  yet  laid.  Waving  his  hand  to  Captain  Hodge 
to  follow,  the  Lieutenant  spurred  the  mare  into 
this  building.  Beam  after  beam  she  cleared  as 
lightly  as  a  cat,  coming  down  carefully  in  the  nar- 
row space  between  them. 

"  He'll  break  the  mare's  legs,"  exclaimed  one. 

"I  hope  he'll  break  his  precious  neck,"  growled 
the  Captain  from  between  his  set  teeth.  But  he 
did  neither.  Man  and  beast  came  out  safely  at 
the  end  of  the  long  building  and  the  Lieutenant 


THE   TRICK-PONY.  17 

threw  up  his  cap  and  dared  the  Captain  to 
follow. 

The  White  Wolf  stole  quickly  to  the  Captain's 
side,  laid  a  hand  on  his  bridle  and  shook  his  head; 
but  the  Captain  thrust  him  aside  and  reined  the 
pony  to  its  work,  lifting  it,  as  it  would  seem,  by 
the  sheer  force  of  his  iron  grip  over  several  of  the 
beams.  But  the  pony  was  nervous  and  weary  with 
racing  so  long  under  so  heavy  a  man  as  the  Cap- 
tain. Perhaps  the  long  lines  of  straight  beams 
on  which  the  setting  sun  quivered  dazzled  the 
eyes  of  both  horse  and  rider.  At  all  events  the 
pony  shied  at  some  object  between  the  beams, 
was  sharply  twitched  by  the  Captain,  stumbled, 
and  fell,  laming  its  shoulder.  The  Captain  was 
on  the  ground  in  an  instant  attempting  to  lead 
the  pony  out ;  but  that  was  impossible  until  the 
carpenters  had  removed  some  of  the  beams. 

The  pony  and  the  Captain  came  in  each  for  his 
share  of  condolence,  but  no  one  thought  of  the  In- 
dians until  White  Wolf  touched  the  Captain  on 
the  shoulder.  "  You  have  spoiled  my  pony,"  he 
said,  and  his  look  was  black  and  threatening. 


l8          HOWLING    WOLF   AND   HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  Your  pony  !  "  replied  the  Captain  scornfully. 
"  I  bought  him  of  you." 

The  Indian  threw  the  dollars  on  the  ground. 

"Borrow  him  this  one  time,"  he  said.  "You 
say  borrow.  You  no  say  buy." 

The  umpires  now  interfered.  "  See  here,  Hodge, 
ten  dollars  is  no  price  for  that  pony.  It  was  worth 
a  hundred  at  the  very  least." 

"We  ought  to  make  it  good  to  the  owner,''  said 
the  Lieutenant.  "  It  was  partly  my  fault  and  I'll 
share  the  damage."  He  opened  his  pocket-book 
and  whistled.  "  I  didn't  know  I  was  so  nearly 
broke.  Here,  you  Indian,  come  up  on  next  pay- 
day and  I'll  give  you  fifty  dollars.  I'll  see  to  the 
pony  too.  Perhaps  we  can  cure  her." 

But  the  Captain  sullenly  insisted  that  he  had 
fairly  bought  the  pony  for  ten  dollars,  and  what- 
ever it  might  have  been  worth  before  the  accident 
that  was  a  good  price  for  it  now,  and  with  this 
White  Wolf  was  obliged  to  be  content.  He  was 
turning  from  the  place  when  he  noticed  his  little 
son  with  his  arms  about  the  head  of  the  disabled 
pony,  weeping  passionately. 


WIIJTK    WOJ.l''    THKKW    Till-:    UOI-LARS   ON    THE    GROUND, 


THE   TRICK- PONY.  21 

This  sight  appeared  to  anger  White  Wolf  more 
than  his  previous  misfortune.  "  Ah  !  "  he  cried  in 
the  Ute  language,  "you  deserve  your  pappoose- 
name  of  '  Howling  Wolf.'  Never  will  you  gain 
the  name  of  a  warrior  if  you  cry  like  a  squaw." 

The  boy  stiffened  instantly.  The  tears  seemed 
to  dry  from  his  cheeks  as  from  hot  copper.  He 
mounted  silently  behind  his  father,  and  nothing 
more  was  said  by  either  of  them  until  they  reached 
a  hill  from  which  the  last  view  of  the  fort  was  to  be 
obtained.  Then  White  Wolf  drew  rein  and  looked 
long  and  loweringly  at  the  white  buildings. 

"  He  of  the  gray  horse  was  not  bad,"  said 
Howling  Wolf. 

"  Words  are  cheap.  Will  he  give  me  fifty  dol- 
lars if  I  go  to  him  when  he  bade  me  ?  I  have 
known  white  men  too  long  to  believe  it." 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  cure  the  pony  ? " 

"  Perhaps.  It  did  not  look  like  a  bad 
sprain." 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  bring  it  with  us  ?  " 

"  Because  it  could  not  travel  in  that  condition. 
We  will  have  whoever  goes  to  the  fort  tell  us  of 


22          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

its  condition,  and  if  it  is  cured  our  most  cunning 
man  shall  steal  it  back  again." 

"  Father,"  said  Howling  Wolf  suddenly,  "  I  hate 
my  pappoose-name.  It  is  worse  than  that  of  any 
of  the  other  boys.  How  old  were  you  when  you 
gained  the  name  of  a  brave  ? " 

"I  gained  mine  in  my  youth,"  replied  the  father, 
"for  five  white  scalps." 

Howling  Wolf  sat  a  little  straighter  and  dug  his 
heels  into  the  ribs  of  the  pony  while  an  unpleas- 
ant smile  took  the  place  of  his  look  of  despair. 
"If  I  kill  him  —  the  Captain  —  and  get  back  the 
pony,  shall  I  have  my  new  name  ? " 

The  father's  heart  beat  high  with  pride.  A 
white  father  who  felt  as  White  Wolf  did  at  that 
moment  would  have  hugged  his  boy,  but  the  In- 
dian gave  no  sign  of  his  pleasure.  "  You  are  not 
old  enough,"  he  said.  "  You  must  not  kill  the 
Captain,  we  are  at  peace  now  and  it  would  bring 
much  trouble  upon  us.  Leave  him  to  me,  and 
when  there  is  war  again  I  will  remember  him. 
You  shall  have  his  scalp  on  the  war-shirt  your 
mother  is  making  for  you.  As  for  the  pony  they 


THE    TRICK-PONY.  23 

will  keep  it  in  the  corral  —  a  bad  place  well 
guarded  at  night.  I  forbid  you  to  try  to  steal 
it." 

Still  the  exultant  savage  look  did  not  leave 
Howling  Wolf's  eyes.  "I  will  try,"  he  said  to 
himself  •,  "  when  the  pony  is  well,  I  will  try  !  " 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    LOST    MEDICINE. 

WHITE  WOLF  carried  his  son  back  to  the 
encampment  of  the  tribe,  a  pretty  grove 
of  cottonwood  on  the  brawling  Los  Pinos  River. 
Long  and  loud  was  the  howl  of  indignation  and 
sorrow  when  it  was  known  that  the  Enchanted 
Pony  was  left  maimed  and  a  captive  at  the  Post. 
The  pony  was  the  pride  of  the  tribe.  Not  an  In- 
dian but  had  thrilled  with  triumph  at  its  successes. 
Many  had  made  themselves  rich  with  bets  on  its 
prowess  in  the  race-course,  and  all  took  this  event 
as  a  general  calamity.  There  was  a  long  smoke 
and  pow-wow  about  the  matter  in  the  evening. 
To  this  Howling  Wolf  was  not  admitted,  but  he 
skulked  outside  the  council  tent  to  listen,  and  he 
heard  Snake-in-the-Grass,  the  slyest,  stealthiest 
warrior  in  the  tribe,  as  well  as  the  greatest 
24 


THE   LOST   MEDICINE.  25 

boaster,  offer  to  steal  back  the  pony,  and  he 
heard,  too,  the  old  chief  Ignacio  accept  the  offer 
forbidding  any  one  else  to  attempt  the  exploit  and 
stipulating  only  that  he  should  wait  for  several 
weeks  until  the  pony  should  recover  from  the 
sprain. 

Howling  Wolf  in  the  darkness  shed  burning 
tears  of  envy.  For  days  thereafter  he  sulked  and 
moped,  sitting  in  the  tepee,  or  wigwam,  and  hug- 
ging his  knees  while  his  great  eyes  burned  like 
coals  under  his  tangled  locks,  instead  of  racing 
through  the  woods  and  over  the  prairies  herding 
his  father's  ponies,  which  had  been  both  his  work 
and  his  pastime.  His  father  understood  his  feel- 
ings and  simply  said,  "  His  heart  is  great ;  Grass- 
hopper Bow-Legs  may  herd  the  ponies." 

So  Howling  Wolf's  younger  brother  took  his 
place  —  much  to  the  contentment  of  the  ponies, 
for  no  one  cut  up  such  pranks  and  antics  as  Howl- 
ing Wolf ;  no  one  else  kept  them  in  such  constant 
action  —  lying  on  their  backs,  turning  somersaults, 
springing  from  one  to  another,  lassoing,  throwing 
them,  urging  them  to  buck,  rear,  rQll,  prance  and 


26          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

kick  and  delighting  his  soul  altogether  in  their 
pranks. 

The  boy's  mother,  to  cheer  him,  took  out  the 
war-shirt  she  was  making  for  him  and  embroid- 
ered it  in  silence,  using  her  brightest  beads  and 
quills.  But  her  son  paid  no  attention  to  her,  and 
refused  to  taste  the  tempting  morsels  which  she 
placed  before  him.  Then  the  good  woman  be- 
came alarmed ;  and  sure  that  there  was  "  an  evil 
spirit  in  his  stomach  "  she  sent  for  his  grand- 
mother, who,  next  to  the  Medicine-Man,  was  the 
most  knowing  person  in  the  treatment  of  sick  and 
bewitched  people. 

The  best  story-teller  too  in  the  tribe  was  this 
same  grandmother,  old  Mother  Two  Tongues,  so 
called  because  she  could  out-talk  any  two  squaws 
in  Colorado.  Howling  Wolf  could  not  remember 
the  time  when  he  did  not  love  to  lie  in  her  tepee 
and  listen  to  hunting  tales  of  the  great  grizzly 
bears  of  the  northern  mountains,  the  catamounts 
and  buffalo,  the  elk  and  the  gray  wolves  which 
used  to  roam  as  freely  as  the  Indian  over  the  en- 
tire State, 


THE   LOST   MEDICINE.  2J 

So  now  when  her  daughter  asked  her  to  come 
and  weave  a  spell  over  Howling  Wolf  this  wise 
old  woman  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  apparently 
not  noticing  him  began  to  tell  stories  to  the  other 
children,  who  swarmed  into  the  tepee  as  soon  as 
they  heard  of  her  coming.  Even  little  Afraid- 
of-his-Shadow  crouched  behind  a  buffalo's  head 
sometimes  used  in  the  dances,  and  sat  shivering 
in  advance,  with  the  terror  which  he  knew  he 
would  feel  before  Grandmother  Two  Tongues  had 
finished.  Big -Toe  and  Honey-tooth,  the  two 
girls,  crept  close  to  the  old  woman,  and  Grass- 
hopper Bow-Legs,  having  been  sent  for  by  climb- 
ing Wild-Cat,  came  puffing  into  the  wigwam  be- 
fore the  first  story  had  hardly  begun. 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  legend  of  the  Garden 
of  the  Gods,"  said  Grandmother  Two  Tongues,  "a 
tale  of  the  great  Stone  Gods  which  I  have  myself 
seen  when  the  Utes  wandered  at  will  where  they 
would.  Every  year  when  I  was  a  child  we  jour- 
neyed over  the  high  mountains  to  a  wonderful 
healing-spring  in  a  sacred  valley.  There  we  car- 
ried our  sick,  and  there  we  met  the  Shoshones  in 


28          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PON V. 

peaceful  dances  and  councils,  and  there  we  wan- 
dered among  the  great  red  sandstone  images 
which  Manitou  himself  carved  long  ages  ago,  and 
we  were  powerful  and  happy.  I  remember  two  of 
those  Stone  Gods  very  distinctly  —  The  Seal  and 
the  Bear — and  it  is  their  legend  which  I  am  go- 
ing to  tell  you  to-day. 

"  Ages  ago  Manitou  made  this  country,  say  the 
Wise  Men,  and  he  gave  it  to  the  great  Grizzly 
Bear,  the  noblest  of  created  beings,  for  man  had 
not  yet  been  made.  And  he  said  to  the  Bear, 
'  Be  joyful  and  courageous,  and  range  through  all 
this  land,  for  it  is  yours,  and  whatever  creature 
opposes  you  fight  with  him  and  overthrow  him, 
for  the  mastery  shall  be  given  you,  and  whether  it 
be  bird,  or  beast,  or  demon,  or  spirit,  you  shall 
withstand  him,  until  the  coming  of  the  Indian. 
Then  it  will  be  of  no  use  for  you  to  fight,  for  it  is 
ordained  that  the  Indian  shall  overcome  you.' 

"  And  the  Bear  heard  and  believed  and  ranged 
through  the  land  and  was  master  of  it.  Now  the 
Bad  God  desired  this  country  for  his  children  the 
White  Men,  but  he  knew  that  he  could  not  obtain 


THE   LOST   MEDICINE.  29 

it  by  strength  or  by  right,  for  the  first  was  given  to 
the  Bear  and  the  second  to  Manitou.  So  he  had 
recourse  to  a  trick,  and  he  took  upon  himself  the 
form  of  a  Seal,  and  stirred  up  a  great  commotion 
in  the  waters,  so  that  the  waves  swept  over  the 
land  and  came  rolling  toward  the  west  in  great 
curling  breakers,  on  the  top  of  which  he  rode, 
and  behind  in  ships  followed  his  children,  the 
White  Men. 

"  Now  the  Bear  sat  upon  a  pinnacle  of  the  rock 
watching,  and  when  he  saw  the  waves  rolling 
nearer  he  was  astonished,  but  unafraid,  for  he 
trusted  in  Manitou.  Presently  the  Seal  reached 
the  foot  of  the  rock  on  which  the  Bear  sat,  and  he 
climbed  upon  it,  and  when  the  Bear  saw  his  black 
head  appear  at  the  other  end  of  the  rock,  and 
marked  his  malicious  eyes  and  cruel,  snarling 
mouth,  he  prepared  himself  to  do  battle,  for  he 
was  still  unafraid. 

"  Then  the  Seal  said,  '  It  will  not  avail  thee  to 
fight  for  I  shall  prevail,'  for  so  it  is  appointed." 

"  Then  the  Bear  thought,  '  This  surely  is  the  In- 
dian, and  my  time  is  come,'  and  he  said,  '  There  is 


30          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

but  one  appointed  to  whom  I  must  yield,  and  that 
is  the  Indian.' 

"And  the  Seal  said,  'I  am  the  Indian.' 

"Then  the  Bear's  heart  froze  within  him  and 
he  became  stone.  But  the  Bad  God  did  not  attain 
all  that  he  wished,  for  Manitou  changed  him  also 
by  his  great  power  into  stone,  and  the  curling 
waves  which  had  threatened  to  overflow  the  land 
were  frozen  into  ranges  of  mountains  which  sur- 
round the  Garden  of  the  Gods  to  this  day.  The 
White  Men,  too,  who  had  approached  so  near  were 
driven  back,  and  not  until  years  afterward  did 
they  succeed  (after  the  Medicine  of  the  Utes  had 
been  lost)  by  the  wiles  of  their  father  in  wresting 
the  land  from  the  Bear  and  the  Indian." 

"  And  have  you  seen  the  stone  Bear  and  Seal, 
Grandmother  ? "  asked  the  children. 

"I  have  seen  them,"  replied  Grandmother 
Two  Tongues,  "  and  there  they  remain  to  this 
day." 

Howling  Wolf  lifted  his  head  from  his  knees. 
"  Tell  me  how  the  Utes  lost  their  Medicine,"  he 
said ;  but  Grandmother  Two  Tongues  had  fallen 


THE  LOST  MEDICINE.  31 

into  a  waking  dream  and  would  say  nothing  more 
that  day. 

The  reservation  of  the  Southern  Utes  where 
Howling  Wolf  lived  is  a  narrow  strip  of  country 
running  along  the  southern  boundary  of  Colorado. 
Here  Howling  Wolf's  tribe,  about  one  thousand 
in  number,  are  penned  by  the  Government.  For- 
merly the  Utes  ranged  over  the  entire  State  of 
Colorado  and  through  the  territories  adjoining ; 
but  civilization  has  pressed  them  in  on  every  side, 
and  now  the  war-like  tribe  are  confined  to  a  reser- 
vation one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long  but  only- 
fifteen  wide.  The  game  has  entirely  disappeared 
from  this  strip,  and  though  it  contains  some  good 
farming  land  the  older  Indians  have  a  lofty  dis- 
dain of  labor,  which  in  their  opinion  is  only  fit  for 
women,  and  very  few  of  them  have  planted  crops. 
Howling  Wolf's  mother  was  very  industrious;  he 
had  seen  her  put  up  their  tepee  in  five  minutes 
and  take  it  down  in  three.  She  could  skin  a  deer, 
dress  the  hide,  jerk  the  meat,  chop  wood,  bring  it 
on  her  back,  do  all  the  rough  work  of  their  camp- 
life  beside  making  and  embroidering  their  cloth- 


32          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

ing,  cooking  the  meals  and  caring  for  a  large 
family  of  children.  Howling  Wolf  was  fond  of 
her  in  a  dumb-animal  way,  but  he  never  offered  to 
help  her ;  his  sisters  could  do  that  —  it  was  their 
place,  and  if  Big-Toe  or  Honey-Tooth  did  not  do 
their  duty  his  mother  could  depend  on  him  to  kick 
them. 

There  was  little  inducement  for  the  Utes  to  la- 
bor, for  the  Government  issued  rations  to  them 
irregularly,  which  while  they  are  not  adequate  to 
their  support  still  keeps  up  the  old  delusion  that 
work  is  not  expected  of  them  and  that  they  are 
to  be  supported  in  idleness. 

When  the  rations  failed,  as  they  not  unfrequently 
did,  White  Wolf  and  the  other  Indians  had  only 
to  shoot  some  of  the  cattle  belonging  to  white 
herders  which  overrun  the  Indian  reservation  al- 
though contrary  to  law.  The  Indians  would  gladly 
rent  their  land  for  grazing  purposes  to  the  great 
cattle-owners  but  this  Government  would  not  allow 
them  to  do,  though  it  made  resistance  to  the  ille- 
gal pasturing  of  great  herds  for  nothing  on  the 
Utes'  land.  So  now  and  then  it  was  not  to  be 


THE    LOST   MEDICINE.  33 

wondered  at  that  a  starving  Indian  killed  a  steer, 
especially  as  he  was  not  allowed  to  overstep  the 
boundaries  of  his  reservation  and  hunt  the  wild 
game  in  the  mountains  on  pain  of  being  shot  down 
at  sight  by  any  white  man. 

The  cow-boys  invariably  retaliated  by  shooting 
a  few  Indians  when  they  found  that  their  cattle 
had  been  stolen,  and  then  the  Utes,  who  knew  no 
other  law  but  their  own  "life  for  life,"  would  steal 
away  in  the  night  and  take  white  scalps  in  revenge, 
often  killing  unoffending  settlers,  women  and  even 
children. 

This  is  how  it  has  come  about  that  the  citizens 
of  Colorado  do  not  love  the  Utes,  that  they  say 
this  particular  tribe  unite  all  the  bad  qualities  of 
all  the  bad  Indians,  that  they  are  as  dirty  as  the 
Diggers,  as  cruel  as  the  Sioux,  as  stealthy  and 
daring  as  the  Apaches,  as  treacherous  as  the 
Kiowas  and  lazier  than  any  other  tribe.  It  does 
not  seem  to  be  any  excuse  for  these  wretched  peo- 
ple that  no  one  appears  to  take  any  interest  in 
making  them  better;  the  kindest  Colorado  Indian 
policy  seems  to  be  to  move  them  away  as  far  off  to 


34          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

the  West  as  possible,  while  the  more  popular  idea 
is  that  of  extermination. 

The  Government  had  built  a  schoolhouse  at  the 
Southern  Ute  agency  and  people  wondered  that  the 
Utes  did  not  become  educated  faster,  not  consider- 
ing the  trifling  circumstance  that  the  Government 
had  neglected  to  send  a  teacher,  or  any  missiona- 
ries to  teach  here.  Howling  Wolf  had  often  peered 
into  the  windows  of  the  unused  schoolhouse  and 
wondered  why  it  was  there. 

It  is  possible  that  the  Utes  reflect  something  of 
the  uncomplimentary  opinions  of  their  white  neigh- 
bors. Howling  Wolf  had  only  heard  the  White 
Man  spoken  of  as  their  natural  enemy.  To  be 
sure  there  was  some  one  away  toward  the  rising 
sun  called  Washington,  the  chief  of  the  white 
men,  who  was  very  rich  and  powerful.  It  was  he 
who  sent  them  their  agent  and  their  supplies,  but 
he  was  not  altogether  kind,  for  he  often  forgot 
;hem  for  long  periods,  and  the  "  brass-button 
iiien  "  who  were  near  them  in  such  numbers  and 
whom  they  had  such  cause  to  fear  belonged  to 
Chief  Washington  and  worked  his  will. 


THE    LOST   MEDICINE. 


35 


It  was  the  opinion  of  the  wisest  and  oldest  men 
of  the  tribe  to  whom  Howling  Wolf  listened  with 
respect  that  Chief  Washington  intended  to  kill 
them  by  slow  starvation  and  that  it  was  of  no  use 
to  resist,  for  the  Utes  had  lost  their  "  Medicine." 


Concerning  this  Medicine  there  were  many  leg- 
ends to  which  Howling  Wolf  always  listened  with  a 
thrill  of  wild  interest  and  as  his  grandmother  cared 
more  for  him  than  for  any  of  her  other  descendants 
it  was  not  hard  to  tease  her  into  repeating  them. 


36          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

One  evening  Howling  Wolf  came  into  the  tepee, 
his  eyes  glowing  with  suppressed  excitement.  He 
counted  his  arrows,  and  slyly  added  two  war-arrows 
from  his  father's  quiver  to  his  own  collection.  No 
one  paid  any  attention  to  him  with  the  exception 
of  Grandmother  Two  Tongues.  "  What  is  the 
matter  ?  "  she  grunted. 

Howling  Wolf  crept  close  to  her.  "  I  will  tell 
you,"  he  said,  "  if  you  will  first  repeat  the  legend 
of  The  Lost  Medicine  of  the  Utes." 

"  A  story,  a  story  ! "  whooped  the  other  children, 
and  Grandmother  Two  Tongues'  audience  was 
soon  grouped  about  her. 

"Many  years  ago,"  she  began,  "our  people, 
the  Utes,  were  both  powerful  and  happy.  They 
roamed  over  the  mountains  from  the  Garden  of 
the  Gods  to  the  great  Western  Sea,  and  herds  of 
buffalo,  of  elk  and  antelope  grazed  beside  their 
camps.  Manitou  had  given  the  Utes  a  sacred  ob- 
ject to  be  their  Medicine,  or  talisman,  against  mis- 
fortune. 'As  long  as  you  possess  this,'  he  had 
said,  'you  will  continue  to  be  happy  and  fortunate, 
and  no  other  tribe  can  prevail  against  you  in  war. 


THE    LOST   MEDICINE.  37 

When  you  lose  this  Medicine,  misfortune  will  come 
to  you,  but  whoever  finds  it  will  be  happy.'  Now 
there  is  no  very  clear  tradition  as  to  what  this 
Medicine  was.  Some  say  that  it  was  a  little  squat 
image  such  as  the  Pueblos  worship.  Other  of  our 
learned  men  are  of  opinion  that  it  was  a  scroll  of 
magic  writing;  but,  whatever  it  was,  it  was  very 
carefully  guarded  by  the  chief  of  our  tribe,  who 
slept  with  it  bound  to  his  breast,  while  it  was 
guarded  by  day  in  turn  by  the  most  noted  braves 
of  the  tribe.  And  the  Utes  prospered  more  and 
more,  until  the  neighboring  tribes  grew  envious, 
and  knowing  the  reason  many  attempts  were  made 
to  buy  or  steal  our  precious  Medicine. 

"  One  night  a  war-party  of  Arapahoes,  our  deadly 
enemies,  crept  silently  up  to  our  camp  and  two  of 
their  young  men  stole  into  the  tepee  of  the  chief, 
slew  him  and  secured  the  Medicine.  Then  they 
hurried  away  ;  but  the  sound  of  the  hoofs  wakened 
some  one  in  the  camp,  the  alarm  was  given  and 
the  calamity  instantly  discovered.  Then  there 
was  mounting  in  haste,  and  our  braves  skimmed 
away  across  the  shadowy  prairie  after  the  fleeing 


38          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Arapahoes.  And  because  our  horses  were  better, 
or,  perhaps,  only  because  they  were  fresher,  they 
gained  upon  them.  Then  a  part  of  the  Arapahoes 
turned  and  fought  and  the  others  sped  on  with  the 
Medicine.  But  the  hearts  of  our  men  were  big 
with  sorrow,  and  they  slew  the  party  which  faced 
them,  and  again  they  gained  upon  the  others  who 
made  a  last  stand  seeing  that  it  was  impossible  to 
escape.  And  our  warriors  slew  them  every  one. 
But  when  they  came  to  search  the  bodies  they 
found  not  the  Medicine.  And  when  an  embassy 
was  sent  to  the  chief  of  the  Arapahoes  with  many 
gifts  he  could  only  tell  us  that  not  one  of  that  war- 
party  ever  returned  and  the  Medicine  was  lost. 
Some  thought  that  finding  themselves  hard  pressed 
they  had  buried  it  as  they  fled,  with  some  mark  to 
show  where  it  was  hidden.  So  the  ground  was 
very  carefully  hunted  over,  but  no  trace  of  it  was 
ever  found. 

"  Then  the  miseries  came  which  had  been  fore- 
told. The  game  went,  and  the  White  Man  came, 
and  little  by  little  our  lands  were  taken  from  us 
and  our  tribe  reduced  to  this  wretched  remnant. 


THE   LOST   MEDICINE.  39 

Not  without  struggle  or  effort ;  sometimes  we  have 
risen  and  struck  fiercely  at  the  white  men  and  have 
beaten  them  back,  but  they  have  come  again  with 
overwhelming  numbers  and  have  crushed  us  down, 
clown.  Then  our  last  great  chief,  Ouray,  said, '  It 
is  no  use  fighting  against  them ;  let  us  join  hands 
and  welcome  them  as  friends.'  But  that  was  of  no 
use  either.  They  drove  his  widow  Chipeta  from 
the  home  which  he  had  built  in  the  white  men's 
fashion  with  peach  trees  all  about  it ;  a  home 
where  he  had  fed  and  sheltered  the  white  man, 
and  they  sent  Chipeta  wandering  away  to  build 
her  tepee  with  her  fugitive  tribe.  It  was  of  no  use. 
Nothing  is  of  any  use  —  our  Medicine  is  lost." 

The  old  woman's  head  sunk  upon  her  breast  and 
the  fire,  untended,  died  down  to  a  few  embers. 

"Grandmother  Two  Tongues,"  said  Howling 
Wolf  in  a  voice  husky  with  emotion,  "  what  would 
happen  if  some  one  should  find  the  Medicine  ?" 

"  Nothing  would  be  too  good  for  him,"  she  re- 
plied. "  Every  man  in  our  tribe  would  impoverish 
himself  to  reward  him  suitably.  They  would  make 
him  their  chief,  all  his  wishes  would  be  gratified." 


4O          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"But  what  would  happen  to  our  tribe?" 

The  squaw's  eyes  flashed.    "  We  would  be  pow- 


CHIHF  OURAY    AND    HIS   WIFE   CHIPETA. 

erful  once  more.  The  men  would  no  longer  be 
lazy  and  drunken.  They  would  all  be  great  war- 
riors and  hunters,  and  the  women'  would  be  rich 


THE   LOST   MEDICINE.  41 

and  beautiful  and  there  would  be  plenty — plenty  ! 
No  children  or  old  people  would  die  of  hunger, 
and  sickness  and  trouble  would  flee  away." 

"Grandmother  Two-Tongues,"  said  Howling 
Wolf,  "  I  am  going  to  find  our  Lost  Medicine." 

"  Many  have  said  so  before  you,  my  boy." 

"  But  I  have  an  idea,  and  you  must  listen,"  in- 
sisted Howling  Wolf.  "  I  believe  that  one  of  those 
Arapahoes  got  away  with  the  talisman  but  did  not 
return  to  his  tribe.  He  took  refuge  with  some 
other  people  who  still  have  the  Medicine.  Now  I 
am  going  to  visit  all  the  tribes  about  us  until  I 
find  happy  Indians,  then  I  shall  know  that  our 
Medicine  is  there  and  I  will  stay  and  watch  until 
I  find  and  steal  it  and  bring  it  back  to  you." 

"  It  is  a  boy's  reasoning,  a  boy's  plan,"  mused 
the  old  woman,  "  yet  not  stupid.  There  is  sense 
in  it,  but  your  father  will  never  consent  to  it." 

"  I  am  going  to  prove  to  my  father  that  I  am  not 
a  pappoose,"  the  boy  continued.  "  Snake-in-the- 
Grass  came  back  from  the  Post  to-night.  He  has 
made  two  efforts  to  get  back  the  Enchanted  Pony 
and  has  failed,' and  now  Ignacio  has  given  anyone 


42  HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

in  the  tribe  permission  to  try,  but  no  one  dares. 
I  shall  do  it  to-night.  Tell  no  one,  but  in  the 
morning  I  shall  bring  back  the  Enchanted  Pony." 
"  Go,"  said  Grandmother  Two-Tongues,  "  and 
Manitou  aid  you.  If  you  succeed  in  this  under- 
taking, I  shall  believe  you  will  succeed  also  in  the 
desire  of  your  heart  —  you  will  bring  us  back  our 
Lost  Medicine."  For  a  moment  her  claw-like  fin- 
gers rested  upon  the  head  of  her  favorite  grandson. 
Then  White  Wolf  entered  the  tepee,  and  Howling 
Wolf  stole  silently  out  into  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER    III. 

A     RACE     FOR     LIFE. 

WHEN  Howling  Wolf  left  his  grandmother's 
tepee  he  selected  one  of  the  swiftest 
ponies  in  his  father's  herd  and  rode  quietly  away 
in  the  direction  of  the  fort. 

About  midnight  he  reached  a  little  copse  of 
pinyon  trees,  half  a  mile  from  the  corral  in  which 
the  Government  horses  and  mules  were  kept. 
From  this  spot  to  the  enclosure  there  was  no 
cover,  and  a  mounted  horseman  could  have  been 
easily  descried  on  the  treeless  expanse,  even  on 
such  a  night  as  this,  when  the  sky  was  obscured 
from  time  to  time  by  flitting  clouds. 

Howling  Wolf  concealed  his  mustang  in  the 
copse  and  cautiously  crept  along  the  plain  in  the 
direction  of  the  fort.  He  could  see  a  sentry  pac- 
ing from  the  gate  of  the  corral  to  the  opposite 

43 


44          HOWLING   NVOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

corner  of  the  fort,  a  distance  of  about  one  eighth 
of  a  mile,  and  if  the  clouds  would  befriend  he 
thought  he  could  dash  for  the  gate  of  the  corral, 
and  possibly  get  inside,  while  the  sentry  was  at 
the  most  distant  part  of  his  beat.  Meantime  his 
quick  eye  discerned  another  favoring  circum- 
stance. An  arroyo,  or  dry  gulch,  ran  in  a  zigzag 
direction  from  the  spot  where  he  lay  nearly  to  the 
gate  of  the  corral.  He  rolled  into  it  and  crept 
on  all-fours  to  the  spot  nearest  the  gate.  Here 
he  cautiously  raised  his  head,  but  ducked  it  none 
too  quickly,  for  the  sentry  was  within  a  few  yards 
of  him.  Fortunately  he  had  not  been  noticed, 
and  waiting  until  his  footsteps  sounded  faintly  in 
the  distance  the  boy  again  lifted  himself  from  the 
ditch. 

The  sentry  was  still  walking  away  from  him 
and,  although  it  was  now  not  quite  so  dark  as  it 
had  been,  he  ventured  to  slip  up  to  the  gate  of 
the  corral.  It  was  fastened  by  a  bolt  on  the  out- 
side, and  was  further  secured  by  a  rope  twisted 
several  times  around  and  knotted.  It  was  the 
work  of  an  instant  to  slip  the  bolt ;  but  untying 


A   RACE    FOR    LIFE.  45 

the  rope  was  a  longer  operation.  It  was  only  half 
done  when  he  noticed  that  the  sentry  was  return- 
ing, and  he  dropped  instantly  upon  the  ground 
and  crept  to  the  hiding-place  afforded  by  the  arroyo. 
Waiting  until  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for 
the  soldier  to  be  at  the  other  extremity  of  his 
walk  Howling  Wolf  raised  his  head.  To  his  con- 
sternation the  man  had  not  moved  away.  Some- 
thing had  excited  his  suspicion,  and  he  stood  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  gate  looking  intently  to- 
ward the  arroyo.  He  saw  Howling  Wolf,  but  did 
not  comprehend  that  the  vague,  moving  object 
was  an  Indian.  It  was  something  alive,  however, 
some  wild  animal  he  thought,  and  he  brought  his 
gun  to  his  shoulder.  The  boy  dropped  into  the 
bottom  of  the  ditch,  and  uttered  an  imitation  of 
the  cry  of  the  coyote  or  prairie-wolf.  This  cry 
confirmed  the  sentry's  belief,  but  it  was  not  worth 
his  while  to  waste  a  shot  and  alarm  the  garrison 
by  firing  at  such  small  game.  Howling  Wolf  re- 
peated the  yelping  bark  at  intervals  and  retreated 
down  the  arroyo.  It  would  not  do,  he  thought,  to 
attempt  anything  further  to-night. 


46          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

But  this  was  a  favorite  cry  of  the  boy's,  and  the 
Enchanted  Pony  inside  the  corral  heard  and 
recognized  it  as  the  voice  of  his  dearly-loved  little 
master.  He  whinnied  uneasily  and  trotted  up 
to  the  gate.  It  was  still  tied  by  the  rope,  but  the 
pony  was  as  skilful  at  untying  knots  as  any  of  the 
trained  animals  in  the  "  Equine  Paradox,"  and  he 
worked  away  at  it  industriously  with  his  teeth, 
answering  each  of  the  distant  howls  with  an  impa- 
tient, loving  neigh,  which  said  as  plainly  as  horse 
could  speak  :  "  I  hear  you,  little  master.  I  am 
coming." 

The  sentry,  who  had  resumed  his  walk,  was 
astonished  as  he  paced  back  toward  the  corral  to 
see  the  gate  open  without  any  apparent  agency, 
and  the  herd  of  horses  scatter  rapidly  over  the 
plain.  He  shouted  and  ran,  other  soldiers  com- 
ing in  answer  to  his  cries,  but  the  horses  delight- 
ing in  their  liberty  had  capered  to  quite  a  distance 
and  were  so  full  of  frolic  that  it  was  a  long  time 
before  they  were  re-captured. 

But  not  until  the  next  morning,  when  Captain 
Hodge  came  down  to  the  corral,  was  it  discovered 


A    RACE    FOR   LIFE.  47 

that  the  Enchanted  Pony  was  gone.  He  was  very 
angry  and  perfectly  convinced  that  the  Utes  had 
stolen  it  away,  but  the  sentry,  and  the  other  sol- 
diers who  had  arrived  at  the  first  alarm,  were 
positive  that  no  Indians  had  been  around.  "If 
they  had,"  argued  the  sentry,  "why  didn't  they 
stampede  the  whole  herd  ?  They  could  have  got 
off  with  all  as  easily  as  with  one." 

This  question  was  unanswerable  ;  but  Captain 
Hodge  went  over  the  ground  carefully,  and  his 
practised  eye  soon  singled  out  the  arroyo.  He 
walked  along  its  side  with  the  Lieutenant,  closely 
scanning  the  appearance  of  the  earth.  "  Some- 
thing has  been  here  recently,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  some  soil  which  had  been  freshly  disturbed. 

"There  was  a  coyote  prowling  round  there  in 
the  fore  part  of  the  night,"  said  the  sentry. 

"  A  coyote  who  wore  beaded  leggings,"  replied 
the  Captain  contemptuously,  as  he  lifted  a  bit  of 
broken  string  with  three  beads  threaded  upon  it, 
from  the  entangling  root  on  which  it  had  caught. 
"  What  do  you  say,  Lieutenant,  will  you  ride  with 
me  over  to  the  Ute  Reservation  ? " 


48          HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS   TfclCK-PONY. 

"  You  surely  do  not  intend  to  provoke  hostili- 
ties," replied  the  other. 

"  Why  not  ? "  returned  the  Captain.  "  If  the 
Utes  dare  to  resist  my  taking  back  that  pony 
there  will  be  trouble,  that's  all,  and  they  will  have 
the  worst  of  it.  The  quicker  they  give  us  occa- 
sion for  wiping  them  out  the  better,  and  the  entire 
Indian  problem  will  be  settled." 

"  There  will  be  no  trouble,"  said  the  Major. 
"  The  Utes  are  on  their  good  behavior  now.  They 
know  we  are  only  waiting  for  an  excuse  to  exter- 
minate them.  They  will  make  no  resistance,  and 
if  the  Captain  demands  the  pony  through  their 
agent  they  will  doubtless  give  it  up." 

Meantime  there  was  great  excitement  in  the 
Indian  encampment  on  the  Los  Pinos  River.  At 
the  same  hour  that  the  foregoing  conversation  was 
taking  place,  Howling  Wolf's  young  companions 
were  yelling,  the  squaws  running  with  streaming 
hair,  even  the  braves  had  thrown  down  their  pipes 
and  were  whooping,  and  through  it  all  Howling 
Wolf  came  riding  in  on  the  trick-pony,  outwardly 
calm  (though  his  little  heart  was  bursting  with 


A    RACE    FOR    LIFE.  49 

pride  and  consequence),  up  to  the  chief's  lodge. 
Here  he  reined  in,  and  sat  as  straight  and  motion- 
less as  a  totem,  awaiting  the  appearance  of  Ignacio. 
The  barking  of  the  dogs  and  general  human  up- 
roar soon  brought  out  the  chief.  He  put  aside 
the  flap  of  buffalo-hide  which  served  as  a  door  to 
his  tepee  or  wigwam,  but  when  he  saw  the  pony, 
he  raised  both  arms,  whether  in  wonder  or  in 
blessing  one  could  scarcely  say,  for  he  uttered  but 
one  word,  which  may  be  translated  by  three  of 
ours  —  "  The  Enchanted  Pony  ! " 

"The  Enchanted  Pony!"  echoed  the  throng, 
and  they  all  began  talking  at  once ;  explaining, 
arguing,  asking  questions,  shouldering  each  other 
to  get  near  enough  to  lift  the  animal's  hoofs,  gently 
to  rub  his  smoking  flanks  or  examine  his  shoulder. 
Howling  Wolf  meantime  maintained  his  attitude 
of  profound  indifference,  affecting  not  to  see  the 
little  group  about  him  and  apparently  studying  the 
wanderings  of  the  distant  Los  Pinos  River  with 
the  eye  of  a  landscape  artist. 

It  was  only  when  the  chief  spoke  to  him  that  he 
condescended  to  awake  to  consciousness. 


50          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  You  stole  back  this  pony,  when  ?  " 

"  Last  night  at  midnight." 

Old  Ignacio  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  while 
the  crowd  exclaimed  that  he  must  have  ridden 
hard  to  have  reached  home  so  soon.  Further  en- 
couraged Howling  Wolf  related  the  entire  story. 

"  You  were  a  fool  not  to  bring  more  horses," 
said  Snake-in-the-Grass,  who  had  twice  failed  in 
attempts  to  secure  the  pony,  and  was  envious. 

"  He  would  have  been  a  fool  to  have  thus 
brought  destruction  upon  his  tribe,"  said  the  chief. 
"The  soldiers  will  be  here  by  evening  as  it  is. 
Neither  Howling  Wolf  nor  his  pony  must  be  here. 
Let  him  ride  across  the  Lonely  Mountains  to  our 
brothers  the  Uncompahgres." 

Howling  Wolf's  family  hustled  him  away.  "  You 
can  rest  your  pony  at  the  Divide  in  the  San  Juan 
Mountains  and  push  on  toward  evening." 

Old  Mother  Two  Tongues  crept  up  to  him  and 
fastened  some  pieces  of  jerked  beef  to  his  saddle. 
"All  right,  grandmother,"  he  whispered,  "but  I 
am  not  going  to  the  Uncompahgres'.  I  shall  go 
to  the  Navajoes." 


A   RACE    FOR   LIFE.  53 

She  nodded.  The  Uncompahgres  were  Utes 
like  themselves ;  there  was  no  chance  of  the  Lost 
Medicine  existing  among  them.  But  the  Navajoes 
were  very  different  in  character  and  condition ; 
they  were  peaceful,  industrious  and,  in  comparison 
with  the  Utes,  rich.  It  was  very  possible  that 
they  possessed  the  luck-bringing  charm. 

In  half  an  hour  Howling  Wolf  was  gayly  and 
rapidly  journeying  away  toward  the  Divide  which 
his  father  had  mentioned.  But  by  and  by,  instead 
of  striking  off  toward  the  north,  he  followed  the 
Las  Animas  River  on  its  southern  course  to  the 
San  Juan,  which  would  lead  him  into  Arizona  and 
the  Navajo  Reservation. 

Just  as  the   pony  showed  signs  of  fatigue  he 

reached  some  ancient  cliff-dwellings,  mere  caves 

• 
in  the  sides  of  a  hill  inhabited  ages  ago,  it  might 

be,  by  his  own  ancestors.  In  one  of  these  a  little 
larger  than  the  others,  he  stabled  his  pony,  and 
lay  down  beside  it  secure  from  observation,  and 
happy  as  a  king. 

Meantime  officers  reached  the  Ute  Reservation 
a  few  hours  after  Howling  Wolf's  departure.  The 


54          HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

agent  immediately  summoned  the  family  of  White 
Wolf  and  charged  them  with  the  theft  of  the  pony, 
which  they  all  stoutly  denied. 

"  Where  is  your  boy,  Howling  Wolf  ? "  asked 
the  agent.  "  You  have  sent  him  off  to  hide  some- 
where in  the  mountains  until  the  search  is  over." 

"Howling  Wolf,"  said  the  father  with  more 
truth  than  he  thought,  "  has  gone  to  the  Navajoes." 

Old  Mother  Two  Tongues  started.  "  It  is  not 
so,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  he  left  this  morning  for  our 
cousins,  the  Uncompahgre  Utes  who  live  in  Utah." 

Such  truth  and  treachery  was  met  by  a  howl 
from  the  entire  family.  "  Howling  Wolf  has  gone 
to  the  Navajoes  to  trade  bead-work  for  blankets. 
Believe  her  not,  she  is  crazy,  she  is  a  liar,  she  is 
an  idiot."  And  her  relatives  did  not  scruple  to  add 
blows  to  their  wordy  abuse  —  driving  her  from  the 
Agency  building  with  all  precipitation. 

"  Where  do  you  think  he  has  gone  ?  "  asked  the 
Lieutenant  of  the  agent. 

"In  such  a  case  as  this,"  said  the  agent,  "we 
can  safely  presume  that  the  Indians  would  not 
speak  the  truth.  The  majority  declare  that  he 


A   RACE    FOR    LIFE.  55 

has  gone  to  the  Navajoes,  therefore  he  is  probably 
on  his  way  to  the  Uncompahgres." 

"  Urn,"  said  the  Captain  musingly,  "  that  is  just 
the  way  an  Injun  would  expect  us  to  reason.  He 
would  say  —  'I  will  try  to  make  them  think  I  am 
anxious  for  them  to  go  to  the  Navajoes  and  they 
will  be  sure  to  take  the  other  direction.'  There- 
fore I'm  of  the  opinion  that  he  has  gone  to  the 
Navajoes,  and  that  if  we  ride  fast  we  can  overtake 
him." 

The  pursuing  party  accordingly  set  out  in  the  very 
direction  in  which  Howling  Wolf  had  gone.  The 
Indians  followed  them  till  they  mounted  the  Di- 
vide and  turned  southward.  Then  the  family, 
with  grunts  of  satisfaction,  returned  to  their  Res- 
ervation. But  one  old  woman  threw  up  her  arms 
and  shrieked,  and  ran  after  the  cavalry  until  breath 
and  limbs  failed,  wildly  declaring  that  her  grand- 
son had  not  gone  in  that  direction,  but  that  White 
Wolf  had  deceived  them  into  an  ambush,  and  that 
she  alone  was  friendly  to  the  whites.  The  Lieu- 
tenant drew  rein,  half  inclined  to  believe  her,  but 
Captain  Hodge  called  to  him  and  he  followed. 


56          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

They  had  not  travelled  many  miles  before  they 
met  a  mounted  cowboy  searching  for  his  cattle, 
who  seemed  particularly  glad  of  their  company. 
"There  are  Injuns  skulking  round,"  he  said.  "I 
saw  one  pop  his  head  out  of  one  of  the  old  cliff- 
dwellings  yonder,  and  I  didn't  stop  to  shoot  but 
just  dusted." 

When  the  Captain  explained  that  they  were  in 
search  of  a  single  boy  the  man's  courage  rose. 
"  Sho !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  might  have  brought 
him  down  as  easy.  But  I  suspicioned  there  might 
be  more  on  'em  —  I'll  help  you  catch  the  little 
varmint.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it's  he  that's  been 
stealing  my  cattle.  The  Government  has  been 
three  months  behind  in  sending  the  Utes  their 
rations,  and  they  do  say  some  on  'em  are  starving, 
and  when  a  Ute  is  hungry  he's  ugly  —  they  don't 
seem  to  have  any  idea  about  property-rights.  Why, 
the  unprincipled  rascals  would  ftill  one  of  my  steers 
as  quick  as  —  well,  as  quick  as  you  or  I  would 
shoot  an  Injun." 

Unluckily  for  Howling  Wolf  the  three  came  in 
sight  of  the  cliff-dwellings  just  as  he  was  leaving 


A   RACE   FOR   LIFE.  57 

his  covert.  He  heard  the  quick  beat  of  hoofs  in 
the  distance  and  whistled  in  his  pony's  ears  as  he 
threw  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  at  his  pursuers. 

The  race  which  was  now  run  was  even  more 
exciting  and  more  reckless  than  that  which  intro- 
duced his  pony  to  us.  This  time  the  pony's  own 
will  was  engaged.  He  had  his  beloved  little  master 
on  his  back,  and  he  was  an  Indian  pony  through 
and  through  and  knew  that  he  was  fleeing  from 
United  States  soldiers.  But  his  long  journey  of 
the  morning  and  the  night  before  told  upon  him, 
and  the  Captain's  thoroughbred  pressed  him  close 
—  was  upon  him ;  and  now  the  Captain  made  a 
dash  at  the  bridle,  but  the  pony  swerved  deftly  and 
was  off  again,  with  Howling  Wolf  grinning  from 
under  his  neck.  Captain  Hodge  did  not  intend 
to  kill  the  boy,  but  he  was  angry  at  being  served 
such  a  trick,  and  his  pistol  was  out  of  his  holster 
in  an  instant,  and  brought  to  the  steady  aim  which 
was  so  sure  to  bring  down  its  victim.  Just  as  his 
finger  touched  the  trigger  the  Lieutenant  came 
skimming  along,  with  so  little  or  such  good  heed, 
that  his  horse  brushed  roughly  against  the  thor- 


58          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

oughbred,  and  the  pistol  was  discharged  into  the 
air.  The  Captain  drew  rein  and  faced  the  Lieuten- 
ant angrily. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "but  we 
agreed  that  if  we  caught  them  the  pony  should  be 
yours,  but  the  boy  mine." 

In  avoiding  the  officers  Howling  Wolf  had  glided 
dangerously  near  the  cowboy,  who,  only  a  few 
yards  behind,  was  now  coiling  his  lariat  for  a 
cast. 

"  About  his  waist !  "  shouted  the  Lieutenant ; 
"  don't  strangle  him  !  " 

Lightly,  gracefully,  the  flying  loop  descended. 
Howling  Wolf  ducked,  but  too  late.  The  fatal 
noose  had  bound  his  arms  to  his  side  and  dragged 
him  from  his  saddle.  The  pony  dashed  away  a 
few  rods  then  turned,  looked  at  his  little  master, 
and  approached  doubtfully ;  but  Howling  Wolf 
saw  this  and  raising  himself  to  his  elbow  gave 
vent  to  a  yell,  only  to  be  equalled  in  its  hideous- 
ness  by  that  of  a  city  milkman,  and  the  pony, 
frightened  or  recognizing  its  import,  dashed  still 
more  swiftly  away. 


A    RACE    FOR    LIFE.  59 

"  You  are  more  fortunate  than  I,"  said  Captain 
Hodge  sulkily.  "  But  we  can  make  the  boy  whistle 
in  the  pony.  Give  me  that  lariat  and  I'll  whip 
the  young  rascal  into  submission." 

"  If  you  please,"  said  the  Lieutenant  firmly,  "  I 
doubt  whether  he  would  yield  if  you  whipped 
him  to  death,  and  I  do  not  care  to  have  the  ex- 
periment tried." 

With  the  help  of  the  cowboy  Howling  Wolf  was 
marched  back  to  the  old  cliff-dwelling  where,  as 
evening  had  overtaken  them,  it  was  resolved  to 
camp.  A  fire  was  built,  a  prairie-chicken,  which 
had  been  shot  on  the  way,  was  roasted ;  and  a 
small,  cell-like  cave  was  selected  from  those  with 
which  the  cliff  was  honeycombed  as  a  prison  for 
the  young  Indian.  The  low  entrance  was  blocked 
by  their  saddles,  and  the  Lieutenant  lay  down  in 
front  to  keep  guard  over  his  prisoner,  with  more 
loving  thoughts  than  probably  ever  before  filled 
the  mind  of  a  jailer.  The  boy's  beseeching  eyes 
haunted  him.  "  I  will  teach  him  to  love  me,"  he 
thought ;  "  I  will  see  his  father  and  get  his  per- 
mission to  keep  him.  I  will  make  him  my  com- 


60          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

panion  and  be  to  him  a  true  friend.  I  will  teach 
him  and  when  he  is  older  and  prepared  for  it  I 
will  enter  him  at  West  Point.  He  will  make  a 
splendid  soldier.  How  unflinchingly  he  glared  at 
the  Captain  when  he  held  the  rope's  end  over 
his  shoulders  —  he  seemed  to  dare  the  brute  to 
strike." 

The  camp-fire  settled  into  darkness,  and  a  little 
sob  sounded  hollowly  in  the  cavern  behind  him. 
Howling  Wolf's  vaunted  courage  had  given  way. 
A  great  pity  filled  the  Lieutenant's  heart.  He 
recalled  his  own  lonely  boyhood  and  striking  a 
light  he  removed  one  of  the  saddles  and  called 
Howling  Wolf.  Had  the  boy  but  known  it  the 
Lost  Medicine  was  very  near  him  at  that  instant, 
but  he  dashed  the  baby-tears  from  his  eyes  and, 
standing  with  folded  arms,  regarded  his  captor 
with  the  same  vindictive  glare. 

"  Are  you  hungry  ? "  asked  the  Lieutenant. 

The  boy  did  not  answer. 

"  You  are  lonesome,  eh  ?  Well,  come  out  here 
and  sit  with  me." 

The  boy  showed  that   he   understood,   for  he 


A   RACE   FOR   LIFE.  6 1 

retreated  further  into  the  little  cave,  his  eyes 
shining  like  those  of  a  wild  cat. 

The  Lieutenant  sighed.  "  I  must  wait  for  it," 
he  murmured,  and  replacing  the  saddle,  he  fell 
asleep  to  dream  of  his  foster-child. 

Howling  Wolf  sat  with  his  arms  about  his  knees, 
staring  before  him  and  thinking.  Suddenly  he 
realized  that  he  was  not  in  the  dark.  The  embers 
without  were  buried  in  ashes,  the  light  with  which 
the  interior  of  the  cavern  was  illuminated  must 
come  from  the  moon.  He  looked  up,  and  saw  it 
shining  down  through  a  narrow  shaft  cut  through 
the  solid  rock  to  the  top  of  the  cliff.  The  shaft 
was  smoke-blackened,  and  must  have  originally 
served  the  first  inhabitants  of  the  cavern  as  chim- 
ney. There  were  ashes  below  it  and  broken 
pieces  of  pottery  which  sufficiently  proved  this; 
but  there  were  convenient  notches  made  to  fit 
moccasoned  feet  cut  in  the  sides  which  showed 
that  it  had  been  staircase  also,  and  the  ingenuity 
of  his  ancestors  served  Howling  Wolf  now. 

Outside,  skirting  the  camp,  was  a  shadowy  form. 
Now  circling  nearer,  now  scampering  away,  it 


62          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

flitted  about  like  an  uneasy  ghost.  The  Captain's 
thoroughbred  whinnied  but  the  phantom  pony  did 
not  answer.  Its  faithful  heart  was  not  longing 
for  horse-companionship.  It  snuffed  the  air  and 
trotted  uneasily  about,  until  from  the  top  of  the 
cliff  sounded  the  mournful  cry  of  the  prairie  wolf. 
The  pony  threw  back  its  head,  listened,  and  then 
was  off  like  a  shot  around  the  end  of  the  cliff. 

The  Lieutenant  awoke  at  sunrise  a  little  stiff, 
but  his  heart  was  warm  if  his  hands  were  cold. 
"Come,  Howling  Wolf,"  he  cried  out  cheerily, 
"  let  us  see  if  we  cannot  be  better  friends  this 
morning."  He  pulled  aside  the  saddles  and 
stared  into  the  sunlighted  interior  with  speechless 
surprise  —  the  boy  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    HAUNTED    CASTLE. 

HOWLING  WOLF  scuttled  away  on  his  pony 
across  the  plain  in  the  weird  moonlight. 
When  morning  dawned  he  was  far  beyond  pursuit. 
But  he  did  not  pause  until  toward  noon,  when  he 
reached  a  canon  or  deep  crack  in  the  table-land, 
in  the  bottom  of  which  a  little  stream  fed  from 
the  melted  snows  of  the  Dolores  Mountains 
trickled  southward  to  the  San  Juan.  Here  he 
hid  and  rested  his  pony  until  toward  evening. 
Here,  too,  he  ate  the  last  remnant  of  the  jerked 
beef  with  which  Mother  Two  Tongues  had  pro- 
vided him,  and  he  knew  that  it  behooved  him  to 
travel  carefully  and  swiftly  in  order  to  reach  the 
Navajoes  before  the  pangs  of  hunger  should  be- 
come unendurable. 

He  attempted  to  ford  the  San  Juan  at  night- 
63 


64         HOWLING   WOLF*   AND   HiS   TRlCK-PONY. 

fall ;  a  dangerous  experience,  for  the  rushing 
water  lifted  him  from  his  saddle  and  separated 
him  from  his  pony,  and  when  he  finally  reached 
the  southern  shore  he  found  that  the  pony  had 
given  up  the  effort  and  had  returned  to  the  start- 
ing-place. Howling  Wolf  called  him.  He  can- 
tered up  and  down  the  opposite  bank  neighing 
and  dashing  into  the  stream  but  not  daring  to 
cross.  So  Howling  Wolf  was  obliged  to  swim 
back  again  and  follow  the  river  further  westward 
to  a  better  ford  ing-place. 

He  finally  accomplished  the  crossing  and  struck 
off  in  a  southwesterly  direction.  But  when  the 
sun  rose  he  found  himself  in  an  unfamiliar  country. 
He  saw  a  great  stretch  of  prairie,  with  here  and 
there  a  clump  of  stunted  pinyon-trees,  and  long 
dry  gulches  crossing  his  course  as  though  on  pur- 
pose to  perplex  him. 

For  two  days  he  rode  on  guided  by  the  sun 
which  burned  like  a  copper  ball  in  the  sky.  Once 
he  killed  a  prairie  dog  and  ate  him  without  cook- 
ing. 

The  herbage  was  scanty  and   they  had  found 


THE   HAUNTED   CASTLE.  65 

water  but  once  since  he  left  the  San  Juan.  Pony 
and  rider  were  giving  out  when  they  reached  a 
deep  canon  into  which  they  descended  for  the 
sake  of  the  water  and  shade,  and  because  Howling 
Wolf  fancied  that  by  following  it  he  might  reach 
a  settlement  of  the  Navajoes.  Anything  was  bet- 
ter than  the  tawny  plain  stretching  away  without 
change  for  miles  and  miles.  The  canon,  which 
appeared  to  lead  him  nearly  due  south,  was  the 
wildest  and  deepest  he  had  ever  seen.  The  sun 
was  already  hidden  though  it  was  only  a  little 
past  noon-day,  and  the  sides  were  so  precipitous 
that  in  some  places  they  rose  in  sheer  rocky  walls 
almost  perpendicularly  for  hundreds  of  feet.  It 
was  difficult  picking  his  way.  Sometimes  it  was 
impossible  to  ride,  but  the  pony  followed  docilely 
and  was  as  good  a  climber  as  a  chamois. 

After  a  time  they  struck  into  a  foot-path  cut 
in  a  shelf  of  the  rock,  which  gradually  mounted 
about  a  third  of  the  way  up  the  side  of  the  pre- 
cipice. Howling  Wolf  was  obliged  to  hug  the 
wall,  for  a  glimpse  downward  sickened  him.  It 
was  growing  dusky  in  the  canon,  and  darkness 


66          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

would  increase  the  danger.  He  pressed  on  rapidly 
for  he  felt  sure  that  the  foot-path  must  lead  to 
some  human  habitation  —  and  he  was  not  mistaken, 
for  a  turn  in  the  canon  showed  him  some  grand 
houses  built  into  the  rock,  overhung  by  beetling 
crags.  They  looked  like  robber  castles  in  this 
wild  gorge,  and  Howling  Wolf  hardly  knew 
whether  to  approach  or  not.  He  feared  that  such 
stupendous  structures  could  not  be  the  work  of 
Indians,  and  that  they  were  inhabited  by  his 
enemies,  the  whites.  But  he  was  very  hungry 
and  too  tired  to  run  away,  besides  there  was  no 
room  in  the  narrow  path  for  him  to  turn  the  pony 
around. 

He  roused  all  his  courage  and  entered  the  first 
doorway  to  which  he  came.  He  found  himself  in 
a  moderate-sized  chamber  utterly  unfurnished  and 
vacant.  This  room  communicated  with  others, 
and  stumbling  over  de'bris  Howling  Wolf  explored 
the  structure  as  far  as  he  could,  only  to  find  it 
ruinous  and  deserted.  The  cliff-dwellings  to  which 
he  was  accustomed  were  only  small  caves  in  the 
rock;  but  he  soon  saw  that  this  house  of  solid 


THE    PONY   WAS   AS   GOOD   A    CUMBER   AS   A   CHAMOIS. 


THE    HAUNTED   CASTLE.  69 

stone  masonry  was  like  them  the  home  of  a  race 
long  passed  away.  Without  knowing  it  he  had 
wandered  up  the  wonderful  Canon  de  Chelly, 
the  admiration  and  puzzle  of  antiquaries. 

In  the  sad  Southwest,  in  the  mystical  Sun  land, 

Far  from  the  toil,  and  the  turmoil  of  gain ; 
Hid  in  the  heart  of  the  only  —  the  one  land 

Beloved  of  the  Sun,  and  bereft  of  the  rain  ; 
The  one  weird  land  where  the  wild  winds  blowing 

Sweep  with  a  wail  o'er  the  plains  of  the  dead, 
A  ruin  ancient  beyond  all  knowing, 

Rears  its  head. 

On  the  Canon's  side  in  the  ample  hollow, 

That  the  keen  winds  carved  in  ages  past, 
The  Castle  walls  like  the  nest  of  a  swallow 

Have  clung  and  have  crumbled  to  this  at  last. 
The  ages  since  man's  foot  has  rested 

Within  these  walls,  no  man  may  know; 
For  here  the  fierce  gray  eagle  nested 

Long  ago. 

Above  these  walls  the  crags  lean  over, 

Below  they  dip  to  the  river  bed  ; 
Between,  fierce-winged  creatures  hover, 

Beyond,  the  plain's  wild  waste  is  spread, 
No  foot  has  climbed  the  pathway  dizzy, 

That  crawls  away  from  the  blasted  heath 
Since  last  it  felt  the  ever-busy 

Foot  of  Death. 


70          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

In  that  haunted  Castle  —  it  must  be  haunted 

For  men  have  lived  here  and  men  have  died, 
And  maidens  loved,  and  lovers  daunted, 

Have  hoped  and  feared,  have  laughed  and  sighed 
—  In  that  haunted  Castle  the  dust  has  drifted, 

But  the  eagles  only  may  hope  to  see  — 
What  shattered  shrines  and  what  Altars  rifted 

There  may  be. 

The  white,  bright  rays  of  the  sunbeam  sought  it, 

The  cold,  clear  light  of  the  moon  fell  here,     [it 
The  west  wind  sighed,  and  the  south  wind  brought 

Songs  of  Summer  year  after  year  — 
Runes  of  Summer  but  mute  and  runeless, 

The  Castle  stood,  no  voice  was  heard 
Save  the  harsh,  discordant,  wild  and  tuneless 

Cry  of  bird. 

Dismantled  towers,  and  turrets  broken, 

Like  grim  and  war-worn  braves  who  keep 
A  silent  guard,  with  grief  unspoken, 

Watch  o'er  the  graves  by  the  Havenweep. 
The  nameless  graves  of  a  race  forgotten, 

Whose  deeds,  whose  words,  whose  fate  are  one 
With  the  mist,  long  ages  past  begotten 

Of  the  sun.  * 

The  thoughts  which  the  ruined  towers  awoke  in 
the  mind  of  Howling  Wolf  were  hardly  like  these. 
Still  the  Indian  lad  was  superstitious,  and  with 

*  From  a  poem  by  Mr.  Stanley  Woods,  in  The  Crest  of  the  Continent. 


THE    HAUNTED   CASTLE.  71 

the  darkness  there  settled  down  upon  him  a  great 
awe  and  dread.  He  heard  the  hooting  of  some 
owls  and  a  bat  brushed  by  him  as  he  crouched 
near  the  doorway.  He  believed  that  they  were 
ghosts  and  that  he  had  found  his  way  to  the  Land 
of  Spirits.  But  after  a  time  tired  nature  asserted 
itself  over  his  fears  and  he  slept  long  and  dream- 
lessly. 

For  days  Howling  Wolf  lived  in  the  haunted 
castle,  exploring  its  hidden  recesses  in  search  of 
the  Lost  Medicine  which  he  fancied  might  have 
been  brought  here  by  spirits,  and  subsisting  on 
the  small  birds  and  animals  which  made  it  their 
home. 

But  he  was  never  quite  at  peace.  The  loneli- 
ness grew  upon  him.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  would  lose  his  power  of  speech. 
Then  he  would  shriek  aloud  to  the  echoes  who 
were  to  him  underground  demons,  or  he  would 
talk  to  his  pony. 

He  found  many  arrow  heads  of  obsidian  or  vol- 
canic glass,  also  pieces  of  pottery;  and  in  a  recess 
he  came  across  an  earthen  jar  half-filled  with 


72          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

parched  corn,  which  was  a  treasure  beyond  price, 
but  he  shared  a  part  of  it  with  his  dumb  companion. 

At  last  by  long  searching  he  found  a  path,  half- 
trail  and  half-stairway,  leading  to  the  surface  of 
the  prairie.  Overjoyed  he  leaped  downward  to 
bring  his  pony,  when  a  rumbling  noise  reverber- 
ated through  the  canon,  the  castle  shook  and  he 
stood  for  an  instant  perfectly  still,  frozen  to  the 
spot  with  fear.  Then  he  darted  to  the  room 
where  he  had  left  his  pony.  It  had  disappeared. 
He  stood  in  the  doorway,  for  a  black  well-hole 
yawned  before  him.  He  shouted  and  called  his 
pony.  A  whinny  answered  him  from  the  bottom 
of  the  gulf.  Bending  forward  he  could  hear  the 
pony  trotting  about  and  so  felt  sure  that  he  was 
not  injured.  By  degrees  his  eyes  became  accus- 
tomed to  the  darkness  and  he  could  see  his  pet 
not  so  very  far  below. 

The  floor  of  the  room  in  which  he  had  stabled 
him  had  been  the  ceiling  of  an  estufa  or  under- 
ground council  chamber  which,  jarred  and  beaten 
by  the  pony's  hoofs,  had  fallen  in,  carrying  the 
animal  with  it. 


THE    HAUNTKD    CASTLE.  73 

How  was  he  to  get  the  pony  out  ?  He  thought 
over  many  plans  and  found  them  all  impracticable 
without  help.  He  must  journey  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible to  the  Navajoes  and  get  some  of  the  Indians 
to  return  with  him. 

He  filled  th'e  earthen  jar  with  water  from  the 
canon  and  lowered  it  with  his  lariat  into  the  pit, 
showering  down  the  greater  part  of  the  parched 
corn  and  all  the  dried  grass  which  he  could  find. 
Then  he  climbed  the  staircase  and  set  out  on  foot 
across  the  prairie.  To  wander  at  random  would 
perhaps  be  death,  but  in  no  other  way  could  he 
save  his  pony,  and  he  set  out  bravely  on  his  jour- 
ney. He  had  brought  a  gourd  of  water  and  a 
little  corn  with  him,  and  he  marched  steadily  on 
toward  the  south. 

He  had  travelled  for  about  three  hours,  and 
was  now  out  of  sight  of  the  canon  when  he  paused, 
turned  about,  and  looked  and  listened  earnestly 
with  his  ear  to  the  ground.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
he  heard  the  tramp  of  horses.  So  strong  was  the 
impression  that  he  walked  back  for  several  miles 
until  he  could  see  the  dark  edge  of  the  canon  like 


74          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

a  crooked  thread  in  the  level  prairie.  All  was  as 
lonely  and  desolate  as  when  he  had  left  it.  Per- 
haps they  were  phantom  horses  pursuing  him  from 
out  the  haunted  castle.  Whatever  the  cause  he 
had  lost  two  good  hours,  and  he  tightened  his 
belt,  bent  his  elbows  and  set  out  once  more  on  a 
swinging  dog-trot,  his  long  hair  streaming  behind 
him.  Poor  little  Howling  Wolf ! 

The  lad  had  not  been  mistaken.  The  sounds 
which  he  had  heard  were  made  by  the  horses  of 
an  exploring  expedition  who  had  come  to  follow 
up  the  wonderful  Canon  de  Chelly,  about  which 
such  remarkable  tales  had  been  told.  At  the 
head  of  the  little  troop  and  by  the  side  of  the 
learned  Professor  rode  Captain  Hodge,  and  the 
boy's  best  friend  the  Lieutenant.  They  had  met 
the  party  on  their  return  to  the  fort  and  had  been 
detailed  with  a  small  escort  to  guide  it  to  the  cliff- 
dwellings.  They  had  just  descended  into  the 
canon  at  the  time  when  Howling  Wolf  had  turned 
back  and  scanned  the  horizon  so  eagerly.  If"  he 
had  seen  them  he  would  certainly  not  have  ap- 
proached any  nearer,  but  he  would  have  been 


THE   HAUNTED   CASTLE.  75 

filled  with  apprehensions  as  to  the  fate  of  his  be- 
loved pony. 

The  party  moved  along  the  canon  filled  with 
wonder  and  delight  at  the  great  castle.  They 
camped  within  its  chambers  and  spent  the  next 
day  excavating  and  making  discoveries,  taking  pho- 
tographs and  gathering  curiosities.  The  learned 
Professor  found  some  rude  drawings  which  Howl- 
ing Wolf  had  made  on  one  of  the  walls  with  bits 
of  colored  chalk  and  he  immediately  drew  up  a 
theory  of  the  worship  of  the  ancient  Tollecs  there- 
from. As  ponies  predominated  in  these  drawings, 
he  inferred  that  the  horse  was  a  sacred  animal 
with  the  cliff-dwellers,  especially  blue  horses  with 
green  tails  and  pink  ones  with  lavender  spots.  He 
also  found  hoof-marks  on  the  floor,  which  con- 
vinced him  that  horses  were  anciently  kept  in  the 
castle.  But  most  startling  discovery  of  all,  as  he 
was  peering  over  the  brink  of  a  precipice  he  heard 
a  live  horse  neigh.  The  Professor  sprang  back  so 
suddenly  that  he  precipitated  his  spectacles  into 
the  abyss.  The  Captain  drew  his  revolver  and 
the  Lieutenant  looked  troubled. 


76  HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

"  I  would  not  have  believed  it  possible,"  mur- 
mured the  Professor.  "I  have  positive  proofs 
that  this  castle  was  built  before  the  reign  of 
Thothmes  in.  of  Egypt,  by  the  same  workmen 
who  constructed  the  great  Theban  pyramid  about 
the  year  3000  B.  c.  Now  I  had  no  idea  that  a 
horse  could  live  so  long." 

"Nonsense,"  interrupted  the  Lieutenant.  "I, 
too,  heard  it  neigh.  But  it  is  probably  some  wild 
mustang  which  has  strayed  into  the  vaults  through 
some  opening  lower  down.  Light  lanterns,  some 
of  you,  and  lower  me  into  the  cavern." 

"  Wait,"  ordered  the  Captain,  "  until  we  have 
fired  several  volleys  into  this  trap.  It  may  be  full 
of  skulking  Injuns." 

But  the  volleys  were  not  fired.  Large  fire- 
brands were  brought  to  illuminate  the  interior, 
and  they  showed  the  pony  standing  alone. 

"By  all  that's  marvellous!"  exclaimed  the  Cap- 
tain. "  It's  the  Enchanted  Pony ! " 

"  Enchanted  indeed  !  "  replied  the  Lieutenant ; 
"  how  did  he  get  there  ?  and  where  is  his  little 
master  ? " 


THE    HAUNTED   CASTLE.  77 

"  He  fell  in  —  don't  you  see  there's  been  a  land- 
slide or  something  ?  Most  likely  the  boy's  buried 
under  the  ruins." 

The  Captain  had  hardly  spoken  when  the  Lieu- 
tenant gave  one  leap  to  the  bottom  of  the  cellar. 
"  Give  me  the  pickaxe  !  "  he  cried  ;  and  seizing  it 
he  fell  to  work  with  the  force  of  a  giant.  The 
others  helped  him,  the  Lieutenant  urging  them  on, 
entreating  them  to  dig  more  carefully.  It  was  a 
long  time  before  he  would  be  convinced  that  the 
body  of  the  gentle  boy  was  not  there.  But  at  last 
he  desisted.  The  final  shovelful  of  crumbled  ma- 
sonry had  been  removed ;  only  the  hard  floor 
remained,  and  no  traces  of  Howling  Wolf  had 
been  found. 

Meantime  the  Captain  had  examined  the  pony, 
and  to  his  delight  found  him  entirely  sound.  "  I 
am  in  luck  this  time,"  he  exclaimed,  "and  now  I 
should  like  to  see  the  rascally  young  horse-thief 
steal  it  from  me  again." 

"There  might  be  two  opinions  as  to  who  is  the 
horse-thief,"  the  Lieutenant  thought,  but  he  for- 
bore expressing  his  opinion  as  he  did  not  care  to 


78          HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

quarrel  with  the  Captain.  An  inclined  plane  was 
constructed  and  the  pretty  animal  led  out  of  the 
pit.  He  shook  himself  with  a  joyful  neigh  and 
proclaimed  himself  "  all  right."  As  the  party  re- 
turned to  the  fort  Indian  stories  were  told  by 
more  than  one  —  wild  scampers  over  the  prairie, 
hair-breadth  escapes  and  terrible  massacres. 

"  I'll  say  this  for  the  Injuns  though,"  said  a 
guide,  "  I  never  knew  of  their  cutting  up  'thout 
somebody  had  first  served  them  a  mean  trick. 
They  seem  to  have  a  law  —  a  life  for  a  life.  If  a 
fellow  is  careless  and  kills  one  of  them  they  come 
down  mighty  disagreeable  on  some  one  else ;  and 
it  don't  matter  whether  it's  the  party  that  was  on 
the  shoot  or  not." 

"They  never  can  be  civilized,"  said  another. 
"Just  look  at  these  Utes,  all  the  Government's 
done  for  'em ;  built  them  a  schoolhouse  with  nice 
desks  and  they  are  not  the  least  bit  better." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Lieutenant  bitterly,  "  I  saw 
the  schoolhouse  when  I  was  on  the  Reservation, 
and  the  agent  told  me  he  had  petitioned  for  a 
teacher  repeatedly  without  success.  There  stands 


THE    HAUNTED   CASTLE.  79 

the  schoolhouse,  and  the  Indian  children  look 
at  it  with  wondering  eyes,  but  no  one  is  sent  to 
teach  them." 

"Well,  'twouldn't  be  no  use  if  a  teacher  were 
sent.  No  matter  what  you  teach  'em  they  all 
drift  back  to  barbarism.  There  was  Chipeta  the 
wife  of  their  great  chief  Ouray.  She  had  as  pretty 
a  house  as  a  white  man,  all  painted  up  and  fur- 
nished, and  an  orchard  of  fruit-trees ;  but  when 
her  husband  died  she  just  took  to  her  tepee  and 
blanket  like  all  the  rest  of  the  wandering  gang." 

"  Hold  on,"  exclaimed  Captain  Hodge,  "  I'm  no 
friend  of  the  Utes,  but  I'm  bound  to  deny  this 
story  whenever  I  hear  it,  and  I'm  always  hearing 
it.  The  Government  moved  the  tribe  as  it  does 
about  every  five  years,  just  gave  them  a  chance  to 
improve  their  lands  and  then  ousted  them.  Chipeta 
begged  hard  for  her  home,  said  she  would  stay 
and  live  with  the  white  people  and  let  her  tribe 
go.  But  the  Government  sold  it  over  her  head 
and  turned  her  out  of  doors.  It  was  rather  hard 
lines,  but  then  she  was  only  a  squaw,  you  know. 
They  wouldn't  have  done  it  if  her  husband  had 


So          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

been  alive,  for  he  was  the  best  chief  the  Utes  ever 
had  and  kept  the  unruly  tribe  friendly  to  us." 

The  Lieutenant  made  a  gesture  of  disgust : 
"  Such  deeds  on  the  part  of  our  Government 
make  me  ashamed  of  my  uniform." 

"Oh!  that's  nothing,"  said  the  guide;  "but 
there  was  one  thing  which  I  saw  happen  which  I 
do  call  kind  o'  mean.  Our  troops  had  surrounded 
a  party  of  Injuns  and  we  were  thinning  them  out 
pretty  lively,  when  they  sent  out  a  little  girl  with  a 
flag  of  truce.  Well,  sir,  they  shot  the  child  through 
the  head  and  she  fell  dead  on  her  flag.  Somehow 
it  seemed  to  me  as  if  that  wasn't  exactly  civilized 
war,  but  I  dunno  as  any  kind  of  war  is." 

"  Better  change  the  subject,"  growled  the  Cap- 
tain, "  if  we  go  to.  fishing  up  stories  of  when  we 
haven't  dealt  just  on  the  square  there'll  be  no 
end  of  them.  But  I  tell  you  you  can't  fight  Injuns 
as  you  would  human  beings  —  you  might  as  well 
be  a  missionary  at  once." 

The  Lieutenant  bit  his  lip  and  they  rode  on  in 
silence.  The  pony  trudged  very  unwillingly,  with 
many  a  longing  look  to  the  southward,  and  yet  he 


THE   HAUNTED   CASTLE.  8 1 

was  going  toward  his  own  pasture-grounds.  The 
Captain  was  finally  convinced  that  he  had  been 
lamed  in  his  fall  into  the  estufa,  for  he  limped 
along  in  a  particularly  ungainly  and  painful  manner. 

They  camped  that  night  on  the  San  Juan,  for 
their  march  had  been  hindered  by  the  pony,  and 
they  reached  it  too  late  for  fording.  The  Captain 
hobbled  the  animal  with  his  own  hands  and  turned 
him  loose  with  the  other  horses.  "  This  is  as  safe 
a  position  against  surprise  by  Indians  as  we  could 
have  chosen,"  he  remarked  as  he  wrapped  his 
blanket  about  him,  "  the  river  protects  us  from 
attack  on  one  side  and  that  low  line  of  bluffs  from 
discovery  on  the  other,  while  our  horses  grazing 
along  between  the  two,  can  not  wander  away  in 
either  direction."  He  loaded  his  carbine  and 
placed  it  beside  his  head.  "  If  that  little  scamp 
of  a  Ute  shows  his  head,"  he  muttered,  "  I  will 
shoot  him  like  a  dog." 

Howling  Wolf  never  knew  how  long  he  wan- 
dered on.  His  corn  and  water  gave  out  and  he 
found  no  food  to  take  its  place.  He  was  racked 
by  chills  by  night,  and  overhead  all  day  rolled  the 


82  HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

great  unpitying  sun,  and  still  he  came  to  no  hu- 
man habitations  or  saw  a  single  human  being. 
Still  he  staggered  on,  on,  thinking  only  of  his 
pony,  wondering  whether  he  had  eaten  all  his 
corn  or  had  had  the  sagacity  to  save  a  part.  To- 
ward the  last  he  suspected  that  he  was  going 
around  in  a  circle,  and  sank  upon  the  ground 
spent  with  fatigue  and  hunger,  and  suffering  ago- 
nies of  thirst.  He  raised  himself  upon  his  elbow 
and  looked  around.  Still  the  lonely  waste.  Yes, 
it  was  true  he  was  dying  all  alone  and  the  Medi- 
cine which  should  bring  happiness  to  the  Utes 
would  never  be  found.  His  head  fell  upon  his 
arm  and  two  great  tears  scorched  his  copper 
cheeks.  He  was  Howling  Wolf  still,  and  would 
never  earn  the  name  of  a  warrior. 

At  that  instant  he  heard  a  gentle  sigh  —  some 
one's  breath  was  on  his  cheek,  and  a  pair  of  soft 
lips  touched  his  neck.  He  looked  up ;  two  great 
longing  eyes  were  looking  into  his  own,  and  stand- 
ing over  him  so  that  his  own  body  sheltered  him 
from  the  sun  stood  the  Enchanted  Pony. 

We  are  already  acquainted  with  the  pony's  ex- 


THE    HAUNTED   CASTLE.  83 

pertness  at  untying  knots.  Down  by  the  San  Juan 
that  night,  it  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  moments 
for  the  cunning  creature  to  nibble  himself  loose  — 
and  then  the  halt  with  which  he  had  been  af- 
flicted disappeared  as  if  by  magic.  It  would  have 
astonished  the  Captain  could  he  have  seen  the 
little  Indian  horse  roll  in  the  dust,  then  shake 
himself  and  scour  away  over  the  bluff  straight 
toward  the  south.  Was  it  some  magical  instinct 
that  guided  him,  some  second-sight  or  exquisite 
scent,  keener  than  that  of  a  hound,  that  he  fol- 
lowed the  invisible  foot-prints  of  his  little  master 
so  exactly,  and  stood  at  last  above  him  with 
an  almost  human  compassion  in  his  troubled 
eyes? 

Howling  Wolf  tried  to  raise  himself.  But  he 
sank  back  with  a  sharp  pain  in  his  head  and  back. 
The  pony  seemed  to  understand.  He  knelt  be- 
side him  as  a  camel  might  have  done.  The  lad 
twined  his  arms  about  his  neck,  but  he  was  too 
weak  to  mount  the  pony  even  in  its  kneeling  pos- 
ture. The  animal  whinnied  in  a  mournful  way, 
but  the  exertion  had  been  too  much,  the  boy's 


84          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

hands  relaxed  their  grasp  upon  his  mane  and  an 
ashen  look  came  into  his  face. 

The  pony  got  upon  his  feet,  gazed  at  him  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  fled  like  a  demented  creature 
across  the  level  prairie. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER. 

THE  pony  had  not  deserted  Howling  Wolf 
when  he  left  him  lying  alone  upon  the  prai- 
rie. A  mile  or  two  away  he  had  passed  this  morn- 
ing a  black-faced  sheep.  In  some  mysterious  way 
the  pony  now  remembered  it  and  knew  that  this 
was  a  domestic  animal  and  that  human  beings  were 
not  far  away.  He  found  the  sheep  again  and  pro- 
ceeded to  worry  her  by  nipping  and  twitching  her 
wool.  The  sheep  very  properly  resented  such  treat- 
ment. She  was  very  nearly  as  agile  as  a  Rocky 
Mountain  goat,  and  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  heels 
with  one  accord.  How  she  scampered  over  the  prai- 
rie —  and  the  pony  after  her,  sure  at  heart  that  she 
would  lead  him  to  some  one  who  could  help  his  lit- 
tle master.  Around  a  sandy  butte  frisked  the  nim- 
ble sheep,  and  close  at  her  heels  cantered  the  pony. 

85 


86          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

There  watching  her  flock  stood  a  young  Navajo 
shepherdess,  a  most  picturesque  little  figure  in  a 
pink  calico  dress  over  which  were  belted  two  bright- 
colored  shawls,  secured  at  the  shoulders  by  silver 
brooches  hammered  from  trade  dollars.  Her  belt 
was  very  wide  and  handsome,  woven  in  gay  stripes. 
Her  hair  floated  in  the  wind  quite  over  her  face  — 
apparently  it  shaded  her  from  the  sun  and  she  liked 
it.  She  parted  it  now  however  with  both  hands, 
and  gazed  at  the  pony  in  wide-eyed  surprise. 
Then,  as  she  took  in  his  good  points,  she  plainly 
became  possessed  with  a  longing  to  secure  and  own 
the  animal. 

She  approached  him  very  cautiously.  But  just  as 
she  was  about  to  snatch  the  bridle  the  pony  dashed 
to  a  little  distance  and  stood  looking  at  her  from  the 
other  side  of  the  butte. 

The  little  shepherdess  did  not  give  up  the  chase 
so  easily.  She  stole  cautiously  near  the  animal  — 
only  to  be  served  in  the  same  manner.  In  this 
fashion  the  pony  lured  her  on  further  and  further, 
until,  mindful  of  her  flock,  the  girl  much  disap- 
pointed was  returning  to  her  charge,  when  she 


THE   NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  89 

heard  the  pony  trotting  behind  her.  The  animal 
which  had  seemed  so  shy  now  followed  her  in  the 
most  docile  manner,  and  even  allowed  her  to  pat 
his  neck.  A  wild  desire  to  ride  the  pony  again 
seized  upon  the  girl.  The  pretty  Mexican  saddle 
which  had  once  been  Howling  Wolf's  was  no  longer 
on  the  creature,  but  the  little  shepherdess  was  ac- 
customed to  bareback  riding.  She  easily  mounted, 
and  the  pony  seemed  willing  to  have  her  do  so. 

But  once  seated  his  gentle  mood  changed  and 
he  scoured  away  across  the  prairie  as  though  sud- 
denly gone  wild.  The  Indian  girl,  though  a  brave 
one,  was  frightened.  It  was  less  dangerous  as  well 
as  less  difficult  to  keep  her  seat  than  to  dismount, 
and  she  held  on  for  dear  life,  hoping  that  the  pony 
would  presently  slacken  his  pace  and  give  her  an 
opportunity  to  alight.  But  this  he  did  not  do,  until 
he  reached  his  little  master. 

When  the  girl  saw  the  unconscious  boy  she  was 
touched  with  pity  as  well  as  curiosity.  She  saw  by 
his  deerskin  clothing  so  richly  beaded  that  he  did 
not  belong  to  her  own  tribe,  but,  good  Samaritan 
that  she  was,  this  did  not  matter.  An  old  battered 


go          HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

army-canteen,  containing  water,  hung  from  her 
shoulder  and  she  at  once  knelt  and  poured  a  few 
drops  between  his  set  .teeth,  bathing  his  face,  all 
the  while  making  caressing  little  noises  which  were 
hardly  words. 

Slowly,  painfully,  Howling  Wolf  came  back  again 
to  life.  He  looked  wonderingly  into  the  kind  face. 
"  I  am,  E-ah-te-ne-al,  the  West  Wind,"  she  said ;  and 
Howling  Wolf  who  knew  a  little  of  the  Navajo  lan- 
guage smiled  contentedly.  The  pony  came  near 
intelligently  and  crouched  again  and  W7est  Wind 
lifted  Howling  Wolf  upon  his  back,  seating  herself 
behind  the  boy,  and  supporting  him  in  her  arms 
while  she  held  the  reins.  The  pony  allowed  him- 
self to  be  guided,  and  leaving  her  sheep,  to  care  for 
themselves,  West  Wind  set  out  straight  for  home. 

It  was  a  poor  enough  home  —  only  a  "  hogan," 
as  the  Navajoes  call  their  hovels,  partly  dugout 
and  partly  booth.  It  backed  against  a  low  hill 
into  which  a  cave  had  been  dug,  and  its  entrance 
consisted  of  two  upright  stakes  on  which  a  cross- 
beam had  been  placed,  while  the  space  between 
the  doorway  and  the  cave  was  thatched  with 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  91 

boughs.  Still,  rude  as  it  was,  it  was  yet  a  settled 
dwelling  not  to  be  moved  from  one  pasturage  to 
another  like  the  tepees  of  the  Utes.  Howling 
Wolf,  as  he  lay  on  a  sheepskin,  looked  about  at 
the  miscellaneous  articles  which  its  Navajo  owner 
had  obtained  from  the  whites,  or  which  he  had 
manufactured  by  his  own  ingenuity,  with  a  feeling 
of  intense  respect  for  the  opulent  family  to  which 
he  was  so  kindly  introduced. 

West  Wind's  father  was  a  blanket-weaver,  and 
was  widely  known  for  his  original  and  fantastic 
patterns  and  for  his  startling  combinations  of 
color.  His  blankets  were  so  closely  woven  too 
that  they  would  hold  water,  and  were  always  in 
demand  at  a  good  price  at  the  Agency.  He  had 
even  received  as  high  as  a  hundred  dollars  for  a 
blanket,  but  this  was  for  a  large  one  on  which  he 
had  patiently  toiled  for  an  entire  winter. 

He  had  dropped  his  shuttle  upon  his  knees  and 
looked  up  with  mild  surprise  when  he  saw  his 
daughter  before  the  door  of  the  hogan  —  on  the 
back  of  a  strange  pony,  accompanied  by  a  strange 
lad.  The  dog  had  sprung  out  from  behind  the 


92          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONV. 

loom,  and  a  pet  fox  from  its  couch  on  the  meal 
bag.  The  mother  had  dropped  the  lid  of  the  ket- 
tle which,  propped  on  a  few  stones  above  a  smoky 


THE    BLANKET    WEAVER. 


fire,  contained  their  dinner  of  boiled  corn.  Two 
young  men  of  nineteen  or  twenty  had  risen  from 
some  unseen  corner.  All  had  been  eager  inquiry 
and  confusion.  At  length  West  Wind  had  been 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  93 

allowed  to  explain  how  she  had  found  Howling 
Wolf,  whereupon  the  Blanket  Weaver  proceeded  to 
unroll  the  family  bedding,  which  had  served  him 
for  a  seat,  and  had  laid  Howling  Wolf  gently  on  it. 

"  There  are  not  so  many  of  the  children  now," 
he  said  to  his  wife  ;  "  one  more  will  not  make  any 
difference." 

"  Not  while  the  harvest  lasts,"  she  replied,  nod- 
ding kindly  ;  "  there  is  plenty  of  corn  for  the  pres- 
ent and  when  there  is  nothing  more  to  give  he  will 
not  care  to  stay." 

They  fed  him  and  his  pony  with  gentle  hospital- 
ity and  Howling  Wolf  soon  grew  to  love  the  trust- 
ful family  who  took  him  so  unquestioningly  into 
their  hearts  and  home. 

He  often  passed  the  day  with  West  Wind  while 
she  herded  her  sheep.  It  cannot  be  said  that  he 
tried  to  be  of  any  assistance  to  her  —  that  is  not 
in  the  wild  Indian  nature  of  things.  He  simply 
lay  on  the  grass  with  his  hands  above  his  head 
watching  her  while  she  scampered  about  after  her 
charges  or  sat  and  told  him  stories.  Howling 
Wolf  very  soon  found  that  young  West  Wind  was 


94          HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

quite  as  good  a  story-teller  as  Grandmother  Two 
Tongues,  and  he  kept  her  busy  day  after  day  recit- 
ing the  legends  of  her  people. 

"You  have  a  funny  name,"  he  said  one  day. 
"  Why  did  they  call  you  that  ?  Is  it  because  you 
are  always  flying  about  ? " 

The  girl  laughed.  "  Have  you  never  heard  the 
story  of  the  West  Wind  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  replied  the  boy.  "  I  only  know  it  blows 
every  afternoon,  but  I  don't  know  where  it  comes 
from  or  where  it  is  going.  Tell  me  all  you  know." 

"The  first  E-ah-te-ne-al,"  said  the  girl,  "was  a 
beautiful  Navajo  maiden  who  lived  long,  long  ago, 
and  she  was  carried  away  to  the  west  by  robber- 
tribes,  some  say  by  evil  spirits.  Her  lover  Jehu- 
miah,  the  sun,  mounts  every  day  one  of  his  herd  of 
white  ponies,  that  we  call  clouds,  and  carrying  his 
blazing  shield  upon  his  arm,  rides  into  the  west  in 
search  of  her.  But  he  never  finds  her.  So  he 
comes  back  at  night  and  sleeps  in  his  underground 
hogan,  and  sets  off  afresh  every  morning  to  seek  for 
her  again." 

"  He  must  be  very  stupid,"  said  Howling  Wolf. 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET    WEAVER.  95 

"  Now  if  /  were  in  search  of  you  I  would  find  you 
right  away.  It  must  be  that  his  cloud-ponies  are 
not  as  good  as  mine.  I  don't  think  much  of  that 
story." 

"  O,  that  is  not  all,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  little 
toss  of  her  black-tressed  head.  "  Though  the 
maiden  may  not  be  released,  her  spirit  comes 
every  afternoon  to  visit  her  home,  and  she  strokes 
the  faces  of  her  friends,  and  whispers  messages  in 
their  ears." 

"  That  is  some  better,"  said  Howling  Wolf.  "  I 
should  like  that.  Do  you  know  I  thought  you 
were  a  spirit  when  you  stroked  my  face  on  the 
prairie  ?  " 

Sometimes,  instead  of  going  out  with  West  Wind, 
Howling  Wolf  would  follow  her  brothers  to  the  corn- 
field. What  surprised  him  most  was  that  they  were 
always  busy.  That  West  Wind  should  herd  the 
sheep,  and  the  mother  mind  the  house  was  not  so 
strange  to  him.  Among  his  own  people  the 
women  were  always  industrious  and  he  knew  too 
that  West  Wind  owned  the  sheep  herself.  But 
that  the  boys,  Tomas  and  Manuelito,  who  among 


g6          HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

the  wilder  Utes  would  have  scorned  any  other 
labor  than  hunting,  should  every  morning  shoulder 
clumsy  scythes  and  hoes  and  trudge  away  to  fields 
which  even  a  New  England  farmer  would  have 
thought  incapable  of  cultivation  was  surprising. 

There  was  a  little  water  here  so  strongly  tinged 
with  alkali  that  his  pony  at  first  refused  to  drink 
it.  The  stream  had  cut  itself  a  canon  in  the  sand 
and  had  sunk  several  feet  below  the  level  of  the 
cornfield,  but  the  boys  had  with  great  pains  and 
labor  built  a  dam  which  had  raised  the  water  to 
the  surface,  and  had  constructed  little  "  acequias" 
or  irrigating  canals,  down  the  middle  of  their  corn- 
field, which  caused  their  small  ranche  to  look  like 
a  green  oasis  in  the  desert.  But  the  spectacle  of 
young  braves  submitting  to  such  drudgery  greatly 
shocked  Howling  Wolf.  He  munched  the  corn 
given  him,  and  looked  on  wonderingly.  He  did 
not  offer  to  lend  a  hand. 

He  was  more  interested  in  the  work  of  the 
Blanket  Weaver.  He  watched  him  spinning  his 
wool,  preparing  his  dyes  —  mysterious  concoctions 
of  barks  or  earths,  but  which  kept  their  color  much 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  97 

better  than  the  aniline  dyes  sold  at  the  Agency. 
He  soon  begged  for  some  of  the  colors  to  touch 
up  his  frescoed  person,  and  to  tint  the  feathers  of 
some  arrows  which  he  was  making.  Still  the  boy 
felt  that  it  was  not  good  form  to  show  too  much 
interest,  and  he  repressed  all  admiration  and  as- 
tonishment under  a  demeanor  of  lofty  indifference 
especially  when  in  the  presence  of  the  Blanket 
Weaver  and  his  sons. 

With  West  Wind  his  curiosity  expressed  itself  in 
a  thousand  questions.  What  was  the  use  of  each 
of  these  articles  with  which  the  hogan  was  fes- 
tooned ?  and  where  were  they  obtained  ?  Well, 
that  worn-out  pair  of  boots  one  of  the  boys  had  re- 
ceived in  trade  for  a  pony  from  a  railroad  surveyor. 
That  box  of  baking  powder  her  mother  had  bought 
at  the  Agency  store  paying  for  it  with  a  pair  of 
turquoise  ear-rings.  The  stirrups,  the  two  tin  pails 
and  the  canteen,  her  father  had  received  in  exchange 
from  an  army  sutler  for  one  of  his  blankets.  Those 
baskets  were  woven  by  the  Moqui  Indians  away  to 
the  south,  that  pottery  made  by  the  Pueblos.  So 
said  West  Wind. 


98          HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  Do  other  Indians  work  beside  yourselves  ?  " 
Howling  Wolf  asked  in  amazement. 

West  Wind  laughed  merrily  :  "  Of  course.  How 
else  could  we  live  ? " 

"  Does  not  the  Government  issue  you  rations  ?  " 
asked  the  boy. 

"  No  —  what  are  '  rations  ? ' ' 

Howling  Wolf  explained  the  way  in  which  the 
Utes  were  herded  and  fed  in  idleness. 

"I  have  heard,"  said  West  Wind,  "that  the 
Apaches  are  supported  by  the  Government.  But 
they  are  bad  Indians.  We  Navajoes  are  not  like 
them." 

"  That  is  the  very  reason,"  replied  the  boy  as- 
tutely. "  If  you  would  go  on  the  war-path  the 
Government  would  buy  you  off.  You  are  too 
good  and  too  peaceable." 

The  idea  seemed  to  strike  West  Wind  favorably, 
and  she  talked  the  war-path  idea  over  that  evening 
with  her  father  and  the  boys.  But  the  Blanket 
Weaver  shook  his  head.  "  That  is  not  like  the 
Navajoes,"  he  said. 

"  No,"  replied  Tomas  "  I  would  like  to  steal  a 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET    WEAVER.  99 

mule  if  I  had  a  chance,  as  it  is  rather  hard  plough- 
ing oneself  with  no  beast,  but  I  could  not  kill  any 
one  —  no,  not  even  the  storekeeper  at  Wild  Cat, 
who  is  the  worst  man  I  know." 

"  Could  you  kill  any  one  ?  "  asked  West  Wind, 
looking  into  Howling  Wolf's  gentle  face. 

The  boy  burst  into  tears.  "  No,"  he  replied, 
"  I  am  only  a  baby.  I  am  afraid  I  never  shall  be 
a  warrior.  But  perhaps  when  I  am  a  big  man,  if  I 
shut  my  eyes  very  tight  and  ride  very  fast  I  could 
shoot  at  some  one.  I  am  going  to  try." 

"  No,"  grumbled  the  Blanket  Weaver,  "  the  Nav- 
ajoes  tried  fighting  the  white  people  long  ago  and 
were  soundly  whipped ;  they  know  now  that  fight- 
ing is  of  no  use.  They  know  enough  now  to  follow 
the  white  man's  road  —  it  is  the  best  Medicine  for 
bringing  luck." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  a  Medicine  had  been 
mentioned,  and  Howling  Wolf  started.  Was  it 
possible  that  these  Navajoes  had  the  Lost  Medi- 
cine of  the  Utes  ? 

He  said  nothing,  but  determined  to  watch  more 
closely  and  question  the  use  of  every  article  which 


100        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

he  saw.  It  was  not  long  before  he  ascertained 
that  there  really  was  something  which  the  Blanket 
Weaver  held  very  precious  secreted  in  a  hole  in 
the  ground  at  the  end  of  the  hogan.  He  saw  him 
dig  it  up  one  night  when  the  old  man  thought  all 
his  family  were  asleep,  hug  and  fondle  it  when  he 
found  it  safe,  and  then  bury  it  once  more. 

The  next  morning  he  asked  West  Wind  if  she  knew 
of  this  mysterious  object.  She  told  him  that  it  was 
"  a  Medicine  "  obtained  at  a  great  price  from  the 
white  men  by  means  of  which  they  kept  their  home 
and  had  been  prospered. 

This  was  great  news  for  Howling  Wolf.  He 
determined  to  possess  himself  of  this  object ;  a  de- 
termination not  so  very  easy  to  carry  out  since  the 
Blanket  Weaver  was  nearly  always  in  the  hogan. 

Now  the  real  history  of  the  "  Medicine  "  was 
this  :  A  year  before,  two  white  men  had  come  to 
the  hogan.  One  was  a  surveyor,  the  other  the 
man  who  kept  the  store  at  Wild  Cat.  They  ad- 
mired the  industry  and  ingenuity  which  had  irri- 
gated the  little  ranche.  "  If  the  old  man  only 
knew  it,"  said  the  storekeeper  to  his  companion, 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  IOI 

"he  could  with  a  little  simple  machinery  water  a 
vast  tract  of  land  here  and  have  a  superb  ranche. 
It's  just  as  well  not  to  tell  him.  He  knows  too 
much  already." 

The  two  men  accepted  the  hospitality  of  the 
simple  Blanket  Weaver,  looked  at  his  work  and 
strolled  about  his  place.  Finally  the  surveyor, 
who  had  been  making  measurements,  came  to  him 
with  the  startling  information  that  his  ranche  was 
fully  a  mile  outside  the  limits  of  the  Navajo  Res- 
ervation. "  You  will  have  to  up  stakes,  my  friend," 
he  said.  "  Any  white  squatter  could  pre-empt  this 
claim  and  drive  you  out.  You  have  no  right 
here." 

The  Blanket  Weaver  was  much  troubled.  "  Is 
there  no  way,"  he  asked,  "  for  me  to  'pre-empt '  it 
as  you  say  ?  Can  I  not  buy  it  of  the  Father  at 
Washington  so  no  settler  could  take  it  from  me  ? " 

The  storekeeper  looked  at  the  surveyor  signifi- 
cantly. The  man  instantly  took  the  hint.  "  I 
could  arrange  it  for  a  white  man,"  he  said.  "  These 
are  free  lands  for  any  one  to  take  up,  but  for  an  In- 
dian it  will  be  difficult.  I  never  heard  of  an  Indian 


102        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

owning  land  personally,  even  on  his  own  Reserva- 
tion." 

"I  will  pay  you,"  pleaded  the  Blanket  Weaver. 
"I  will  pay  you  well." 

"  Then,"  said  the  surveyor,  "bring  me  two  hun- 
dred dollars  some  day  to  my  office  at  Wild  Cat  and 
I  will  fix  it  all  right  for  you." 

Two  hundred  dollars  was  a  great  sum  for  the 
poor  Indian.  He  had  one  hundred  which  he  had 
obtained  for  the  beautiful  blanket  on  which  he  had 
worked  the  entire  winter.  A  wealthy  lady,  the  wife 
of  a  Senator,  had  visited  the  Navajo  agency  and 
had  expressed  a  desire  for  a  blanket  of  a  certain 
size  and  pattern  as  a  portiere  for  an  Indian  room 
in  her  new  house  in  Washington.  The  Agent  had 
sent  for  the  Blanket  Weaver  and  he  had  taken  her 
order,  had  executed  it  very  faithfully  and  had  re- 
cently received  the  money.  He  had  felt  very  rich 
and  now  it  must  all  go  and  more  too.  Still  to 
what  better  use  could  it  be  put  than  to  secure 
their  home  ?  He  had  a  small  herd  of  ponies  with 
which  the  boys  had  hitherto  conducted  the  farm- 
work  and  carried  their  produce  to  market.  There 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET    WEAVER.  103 

was  nothing  else  which  he  could  part  with,  for  the 
women  of  his  family  would  wish  to  keep  the  sheep 
for  their  wool,  and  for  the  mutton  needed  for  the 
subsistence  of  the  family  during  the  winter.  He 
drove  the  ponies  to  Wild  Cat  and  sold  them  at 
auction.  They  brought  only  sixty  dollars.  Then 
he  went  to  see  the  surveyor  and  offered  him  all  he 
had  for  a  deed  which  should  secure  him  his  ranche. 
The  man  was  very  unwilling  at  first  to  accept  less 
than  the  full  two  hundred  dollars,  but  at  length 
agreed  to  take  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  if  the 
Blanket  Weaver  would  make  him  a  blanket  as 
handsome  as  the  one  which  he  had  sold  to  the 
Senator's  wife.  Greatly  delighted,  the  old  man  re- 
turned with  the  precious  paper,  and  wrapping  it 
carefully,  buried  it  in  his  hogan.  For  another 
winter  he  toiled  at  his  loom  and  delivered  the 
blanket  to  the  surveyor.  The  man  was  surprised 
at  its  beauty,  and  evidently  conscience-stricken,  for 
he  gave  the  weaver  a  five  dollar  gold-piece,  with 
which  the  poor  man  returned  home  overjoyed  at 
the  unexpected  generosity. 

He  was  happy  indeed,  for  now  no  one  could 


104       HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

take  away  his  home.  Nearly  every  night  he  ex- 
humed the  precious  "  Medicine,"  and  prayed  to  it, 
or  rather  through  it  to  the  Being  who  had  granted 
him  this  great  blessing. 

The  longer  Howling  Wolf  lived  with  this  happy 
family,  the  more  he  saw  of  their  contentment  and 
what  seemed  to  him  great  wealth,  the  more  certain 
he  became  that  this  could  only  have  been  accom- 
plished by  magical  means.  Indeed  West  Wind 
had  admitted  as  much.  This  object  to  which  the 
old  man  prayed,  which  he  hugged  each  night  with 
such  love  and  gratitude,  which  had  brought  him  so 
much  happiness  and  prosperity  —  what  could  it  be 
but  the  Lost  Medicine  of  his  own  tribe  of  which 
he  was  in  search  ? 

He  watched  his  opportunity,  and  one  day  the  old 
man  set  out  for  Wild  Cat  to  sell  a  couple  of  saddle- 
cloths which  he  had  lately  finished.  Howling  Wolf 
lent  him  his  pony  for  the  trip,  glad  to  do  anything 
to  secure  his  absence.  West  Wind  asked  him  to 
come  with  her  and  watch  the  sheep,  but  he  refused. 
Her  mother  took  down  the  two  tin  pails  and  an- 
nounced that  she  was  going  up  the  canon  to  gather 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  105 

some  wild  plums,  and  she  also  invited  their  young 
Ute  guest  to  accompany  her.  This  invitation 
Howling  Wolf  did  not  dare  to  decline,  but  he  man- 
aged after  an  hour  to  become  separated  from  her 
and  to  hurry  back  to  the  hogan. 

It  was  quite  deserted  and  open.  With  trembling 
hands  he  dug  in  the  well-known  spot  and  unearthed 
the  treasure.  He  unwound  the  wrappings  of  deer- 
skin tied  with  thongs  of  sinews,  and  disclosed  a 
large  paper  ornamented  with  a  picture  of  Indians 
shooting  buffalo,  and  some  strange  lines  and  char- 
acters variously  colored. 

This  paper  he  wrapped  very  closely  around  his 
left  thigh  inside  his  deerskin  legging,  and  expedi- 
tiously  tied  up  the  packet  exactly  as  before  and 
buried  it  again  with  great  care  and  much  haste. 

Then  for  the  first  time  he  hesitated.  He  had 
always  been  taught  that  it  was  right  and  commend- 
able to  steal  from  any  one  outside  his  own  tribe. 
But  the  Blanket  Weaver  had  been  as  kind  to  him 
as  a  father  and  W7est  Wind  —  was  she  not  dearer 
to  him  than  his  own  sisters  ?  West  Wind  had 
saved  his  life.  He  thought  of  how  she  brought 


106        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

him  to  the  hogan  with  his  languid  head  lying  on 
her  shoulder  and  her  strong  arms  about  him. 
They  had  been  good  to  the  pony  too.  He  had 
grown  fat  and  lazy  on  their  corn.  Could  he  do 
this  thing  to  his  kind  benefactors  ? 

Then  he  thought  of  his  own  home,  of  its  filth  and 
misery,  of  how  they  gorged  themselves  when  the 
rations  were  issued,  and  starved  until  they  came 
again.  He  thought  of  his  father  drunk  half  the 
time  and  lazy  always,  of  his  mother  overworked 
and  always  tired,  of  Grandmother  Two  Tongue's 
stories,  of  their  lost  happiness  and  how  he  who  re- 
stored it  should  be  a  prince  among  his  people. 
His  eyes  kindled.  The  Blanket  Weaver  had  had 
their  talisman  long  enough.  It  had  brought  him 
good  fortune,  now  surely  it  was  the  turn  of  the 
poor  Utes  to  whom  it  rightfully  belonged.  He 
would  carry  it  away,  and  then,  when  chief  of  his 
tribe,  he  would  return — Howling  Wolf  no  longer, 
but  with  some  honorable  name,  and  claim  West 
Wind  as  his  bride,  and  bear  her  away  to  share  his 
fortune. 

The  lad  hurried  from  the  hogan  impatient  to  be 


THE    NAVAJO    BLANKET   WEAVER.  107 

gone.  He  placed  the  arrows  which  he  had  made 
in  the  corner  which  held  West  Wind's  belongings. 
They  were  the  only  things  he  could  leave  her.  He 
took  a  few  ears  of  corn  for  his  journey,  and  then 
—  he  thought  of  his  pony. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    LITTLE    SAGE-HEN. 

HOWLING  WOLF  felt  that  he  could  not  go 
away,  even  with  the  precious  Medicine, 
without  his  beloved  pony.  He  would  have  left 
the  talisman  with  all  its  unknown  possibilities,  had 
he  been  obliged  to  choose  between  the  two.  As 
it  was  he  slunk  away  into  the  cornfield,  and  hid, 
awaiting  the  return  of  the  Blanket  Weaver.  He 
did  not  ask  himself  why  he  stole  away  here  like  a 
guilty  creature,  when  he  might  have  met  the  un- 
suspecting man  face  to  face  without  fear  of  detec- 
tion. Even  his  rudimentary  bit  of  a  conscience 
told  him  he  had  done  a  dishonorable  thing,  and 
like  Adam  in  the  garden  he  went  and  hid  himself. 
The  long  leaves  of  the  corn  rustled  gently  and 
filled  him  with  continual  apprehension.  Presently 
something  hurried  through  the  field  just  beyond 
108 


THE   LITTLE    SAGE-HEN.  109 

him.  He  dodged  back  at  first,  then,  seeing  that 
it  was  some  wild  creature,  shot  an  arrow  and 
bounded  after  it.  It  was  a  little  brown  fowl  which 
uttered  a  plaintive  cry  and  fluttered,  wounded,  to 
a  short  distance.  The  boy  easily  secured  it,  and 
sure  that  it  was  not  teal  or  grouse,  snipe  or  quail, 
stood  wondering  what  manner  of  bird  this  might 
be,  when  he  was  startled  by  a  louder  rustling;  the 
green  masts  with  their  drooping  pennons  swayed 
aside,  and  West  Wind  stood  under  the  plumed 
and  tasselled  archway. 

"You  have  shot  a  little  sage-hen,"  she  cried. 
"  I  have  never  before  known  one  to  wander  into 
our  country.  They  belong  in  the  desolate  Moquis 
lands.  They  are  uncanny  little  creatures  and  haunt 
the  clumps  of  sage-brush.  Their  movements  are 
odd  and  shy,  and  they  cry  like  a  lost  pappoose. 
The  Moquis  have  a  legend  about  them.  But 
father  will  soon  return  and  the  corn  is  cooked. 
Let  us  go  to  our  supper." 

"  Stay  awhile  and  tell  me  the  legend  first,"  said 
Howling  Wolf,  anxious  to  avail  himself  of  any  pre- 
text to  avoid  meeting  the  Blanket  Weaver. 


110       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

"The  Moquis  live  in  towns  on  high  cliffs,  which 
overlook  a  waste  and  barren  country,"  said  West 
Wind.  "They  are  poor  now,  but  they  say  that 
once,  centuries  ago,  they  were  a  powerful  people. 
At  that  time  they  made  war  upon  a  wealthy  West- 
ern tribe  and  captured  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah,  the 
daughter  of  the  chief.  The  sorcerer  of  her  peo- 
ple, gathering  the  necessary  herbs  and  reptiles, 
transformed  the  princess  in  her  captivity  into  a 
sage-hen.  The  Moquis  found  that  their  prisoner 
had  vanished,  notwithstanding  their  constant  watch. 
A  'strange  bird  had  appeared  in  her  place  which 
so  wearied  them  by  its  constant  cries  that  they 
set  it  free.  It  was  a  prisoner  still,  however,  being 
unable  to  leave  the  land  of  the  Moquis,  where  it 
wanders  timid  and  sad  to  this  clay. 

"  Sometimes  the  traveller  hears  its  piteous  call 
from  the  sage-brush,  and  if  he  pauses  it  will  fly  to 
his  saddle-bow  and  journey  with  him  for  a  little 
distance.  But  when  the  boundaries  of  Moquis 
land  are  reached  it  is  forced  by  some  hidden  power 
to  glide  back  to  the  cheerless  sage-brush." 

"I  wonder  what  brought  it  from  its  prison-coun- 


THE    LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  Ill 

try  to-day,"  Howling  Wolf  said.  "  I  am  sorry 
that  I  killed  it.  Perhaps  it  was  sent  to  me  for 
some  special  purpose." 

West  Wind  examined  the  bird  carefully.  "  It  is 
not  dead,"  she  said.  "  See,  you  have  only  broken 
its  wing.  It  closed  its  eyes  because  it  was  afraid. 
I  will  take  it  to  the  hogan,  and  we  will  nurse  it 
until  it  is  well." 

Howling  Wolf  followed  her  reluctantly.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  every  one  must  know  that  he 
had  stolen  the  Medicine  from  his  benefactor.  He 
stopped  outside  and  patted  his  pony,  and  saw  to 
his  surprise  that  the  animal  had  been  ridden  hard. 
He  was  reeking  with  sweat  and  trembling  in  every 
limb ;  it  would  not  do  for  him  to  steal  away  at 
moonrise  as  he  had  intended  to  do,  for  the  pony 
was  in  no  condition  for  a  long  ride. 

Then  a  sound  of  lamentation  from  the  hogan 
smote  upon  his  ear.  West  Wind's  mother  was 
beating  her  breast  and  tearing  her  hair,  while  the 
Blanket  Weaver  sat  on  the  ground  in  silent,  stony 
despair.  Howling  Wolf  was  sure  at  once  that  the 
theft  had  been  discovered.  West  Wind,  who  had 


112        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

sprung  before  him  into  the  hogan  presently  re- 
turned and  explained  the  full  cause  of  their 
grief. 

The  Blanket  Weaver  on  his  way  to  town  had 
discovered  a  cabin  built  on  a  corner  of  his  land. 
The  circumstance  had  not  troubled  him  at  first, 
for  he  imagined  that  some  one  had  settled  there 
in  ignorance  of  his  ownership;  but  when  he 
reached  Wild  Cat  and  found  that  the  surveyor,  in 
whom  he  had  confided  for  his  right  to  his  claim, 
had  left  the  town,  and  that  in  his  place  was  a 
strange  land-agent,  he  began  to  be  uneasy.  This 
uneasiness  deepened  into  the  wildest  alarm  when 
the  store-keeper  told  him  that  some  unknown  par- 
ties had  "  squatted  "  upon  his  claim  and  that  he 
advised  him  as  a  friend  to  move  quietly  away  and 
not  to  make  trouble. 

This  the  Blanket  Weaver  was  not  willing  to  do. 
He  called  on  the  strange  land-agent  and  stated 
his  case.  The  man  seemed  friendly  enough,  but 
he  shook  his  head  gravely.  He  did  not  think  the 
surveyor  had  any  right  to  give  him  a  deed  to  the 
land.  Still  it  might  be  all  right  and  he  would  like 


THE    LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  113 

to  see  the  paper  —  which  the  Blanket  Weaver 
promised  to  bring  on  the  next  day. 

Just  before  leaving  he  had  asked  the  name  of 
the  settler  who  had  preempted  his  claim,  and  was 
thunderstruck  to  ascertain  that  it  was  the  store- 
keeper himself.  He  had  ridden  home  in  haste 
and  had  hastened  to  take  from  its  place  of  con- 
cealment the  powerful  Medicine  which  would  pro- 
tect them  from  all  evil.  He  did  not  undo  the 
package  to  see  if  the  paper  was  still  there,  but 
contented  himself  with  caressing  and  fondling  it. 

Howling  Wolf  saw  him  confidingly  praying, 
soothing  his  perturbed  spirit,  with  child-like  faith, 
and  his  heart  misgave  him.  Should  he  let  him 
carry  the  empty  wrappings  to  the  office  and  receive 
the  great  blow  which  would  surely  come  ?  One 
glance  at  the  distracted  family  and  the  smitten 
man  was  enough  for  Howling  Wolf.  He  believed 
all  the  more  firmly  in  the  efficacy  of  the  Medicine 
now  that  he  saw  what  calamity  had  come  upon  the 
family  with  its-  loss,  but  he  could  not  be  responsi- 
ble for  all  this  misery,  no,  not  if  his  tribe  remained 
forever  in  wretchedness. 


114       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

He  tore  the  paper  from  its  hiding-place  and 
gave  it  to  the  old  man  while  great  sweat-drops  of 
excitement  gathered  on  his  brow.  The  wife  of 
the  Blanket  Weaver  drove  the  boy  indignantly 
from  the  hogan,  and  he  threw  himself  supperless 
on  the  ground  beside  his  pony  only  waiting  for  the 
animal  to  rest  to  go  away. 

It  was  hard  to  be  cut  off  thus  when  he  had  per- 
formed the  most  noble  act  of  his  life.  Howling 
Wolf's  heart  was  filled  with  bitterness  and  an  evil 
spirit  stirred  within  him,  when  suddenly  West 
Wind  stood  before  him.  Her  eyes  were  full  of 
tears  and  great  drops  glistened  on  her  cheeks  in 
the  moonlight.  She  took  his  hand,  but  said  noth- 
ing, though  her  silence  was  eloquent  with  thanks 
and  pleading. 

"I  must  go,"  Howling  Wolf  said  at  last.  "You 
have  been  very  kind  to  me.  Good-by." 

"  Do  not  forsake  us,"  West  Wind  cried.  "  Some- 
thing tells  me  that  our  troubles  have  only  begun. 
Stay  at  least  till  father  returns  to-morrow  from  the 
office  and  we  know  the  truth." 

At  that  moment  the  old  man  raised  the  blanket 


THE    LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  115 

which  served  the  hogan  as  door  and  called  .both 
of  the  children  to  supper.  West  Wind  looked  at 
Howling  Wolf.  It  was  the  sign  that  he  was  for- 
given. 

"  I  will  stay  as  long  as  I  can  help  you,"  the  boy 
said. 

The  next  day  the  Blanket  Weaver  set  out  again 
for  the  town  bearing  with  him  the  precious  papers. 
He  rode  Howling  Wolf's  pony  and  his  sons,  Toinas 
and  Manuelito,  deeply  interested,  walked  by  his 
side.  In  the  afternoon  the  little  party  returned, 
and  there  needed  no  word  of  explanation  to  tell 
the  disheartening  result  of  their  trip.  The  old 
man's  head  was  sunken  upon  his  bosom  and 
wagged  helplessly  as  his  sons  supported  him. 
The  lustre  and  intelligence  had  gone  out  of  his 
eyes,  with  the  heart-breaking  information  that  the 
Medicine  in  which  he  had  trusted  and  for  which 
they  had  paid  so  dearly  was  only  a  railroad-map 
worth  absolutely  nothing.  The  store-keeper's 
claim  had  been  made  good  according  to  law,  they 
were  off  their  Reservation,  and  must  leave  their 
improved  land  and  journey  away  into  the  desert. 


Il6        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Fortunately  the  old  Blanket  Weaver  could  not 
fully  comprehend  this.  He  still  fondled  his  pre- 
cious paper  with  childish  confidence  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  put  to  bed  without  remark  of  any 
kind.  About  midnight  Howling  Wolf  was  awak- 
ened by  the  wailing  of  the  Blanket  Weaver's  wife, 
and  he  saw  the  sons  bear  the  old  man  out  of  the 
hogan  and  lay  him  with  up-staring  eyes  in  the 
moonlight. 

The  Navajoes  have  a  superstition  that  if  a  soul 
passes  from  the  body  within  a  house  it  can  never 
free  itself;  but  will  continue  to  haunt  the  building 
until  its  walls  are  burned.  To  escape  this  calamity, 
the  boys,  who  believed  their  father  was  dying, 
were  carrying  him  out  under  the  sky.  Attracted 
by  a  horrible  fascination,  Howling  Wolf  drew  near. 
The  fresh  air  revived  the  Blanket  Weaver,  who 
was  only  in  a  fit.  West  Wind  lay  across  his  feet 
in  silent  grief,  and  the  boy  shook  her,  saying,  "  I 
do  not  think  he  is  dying,  I  will  bring  hot  stones 
from  the  hogan.  Rub  his  hands.  I  believe  we 
can  save  him." 

The  two  children  worked  with  a  will,  and  West 


THE   LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  119 

Wind's  mother  seeing  what  they  were  doing  joined 
them.  The  shock  had  been  a  great  one ;  but 
thanks  to  Howling  Wolf's  energetic  action  the 
old  man  did  not  die.  He  was  much  shaken,  how- 
ever, both  in  mind  and  body.  He  could  no  longer 
sit  at  his  loom,  and  was  only  happy  when  hugging 
the  Medicine,  and  mumbling  to  it  his  prayers  of 
thankfulness.  Only  Howling  Wolf  could  rouse 
him  from  his  stupor ;  and  the  family  having  taken 
him  back  into  their  confidence  he  remained  with 
them  in  the  sad,  laborious  days  of  moving. 

With  West  Wind's  approval  the  boys  had  ex- 
changed half  the  sheep  for  a  few  burros  or  don- 
keys. On  these  they  piled  their  household  effects, 
and  seated  their  father,  mother  and  sister.  They 
left  their  half-ripened  crops  standing  in  the  fields, 
and  the  now  useless  loom  in  the  hogan,  and 
trudged  stolidly  along,  driving  the  remnant  of 
their  flock  while  the  tame  fox  trotted  after  them 
with  the  dog,  and  West  Wind  carried  the  little 
sage-hen  in  her  bosom. 

They  journeyed  to  Fort  Defiance,  the  Agency 
of  the  Navajoes.  Although  they  had  suffered  so 


120       HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

much  from  the  hands  of  white  people  the  trustful 
family  did  not  blame  the  Great  Father  at  Wash- 
ington ;  they  were  sure  that  he  would  have  some- 
thing for  them  to  do. 

And  they  were  right.  The  agent  heard  their 
story  sadly.  "  There  is  nothing  for  you  to  do  but 
to  begin  a  new  farm  somewhere  on  the  Reserva- 
tion, and  it  is  about  as  well  fitted  for  farming  pur- 
poses as  so  many  acres  of  clear  sky.  Stay,"  he 
exclaimed,  "it  just  happens  that  at  this  time  there 
is  something  else  which  the  young  men  can  do." 

There  was  trouble  with  the  Apaches,  a  regiment 
hitherto  stationed  in  Colorado  had  been  changed 
to  the  Department  of  New  Mexico,  and  who  but 
Captain  Hodge  and  the  Lieutenant  had  been  sent 
to  Fort  Defiance  to  secure  Navajo  scouts ! 

Tomas  and  Manuelito  heard  of  this  opportunity 
for  action,  and  joyfully  offered  themselves,  first 
building  for  their  parents  near  the  Agency  a  hogan 
still  more  wretched  than  the  one  which  they  had 
formerly  occupied,  having  the  sheep  with  them 
and  promising  to  bring  back  all  their  pay  for  their 
support  during  the  coming  winter.  The  Govern- 


THE    LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  121 

ment  had  offered  a  premium  on  every  Apache 
scalp,  and  the  feeling  of  Toinas  and  Manuelito 
was  that  they  would  kill,  kill,  until  they  had 
enough  black  locks  to  decorate  many  war-shirts, 
and  perhaps  there  might  be  one  red  strand  among 
them  also ;  for  they  would  return  by  way  of  their 
old  home  and  the  wicked  store-keeper  must  look 
out,  for  when  their  hearts  were  great  with  blood 
and  gunpowder,  and  government  whiskey,  they 
might  do  great  deeds.  They  did  not  tell  this  to 
their  parents,  for  they  knew  that  they  would  disap- 
prove ;  but  Howling  Wolf  heard  it,  and  the  plan  did 
not  shock  him  so  greatly  as  it  ought  to  have  done. 

There  was  a  war-dance  outside  the  fort  the  night 
before  the  scouts  rode  away.  Some  of  the  chiefs 
of  the  tribe.  Old  Gandamoocha  and  Manuelito 
for  whom  the  younger  of  the  boys  was  named  were 
there,  and  after  the  young  braves  had  leaped  about 
the  fire  in  their  paint  and  feathers  and  had  chanted 
their  hideous  war-song,  Chief  Manuelito  addressed 
them. 

"  I  am  disheartened,"  he  said.  "  I  have  tried 
to  follow  the  white  man's  road.  I  educated  my 


122       HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS  TRICK-PONY. 

two  sons  and  they  have  died,  and  I  am  left  a 
blasted  tree.  The  white  men  shove  us  on  further 
and  further  from  poor  lands  to  poorer.  We  are  of 
no  use  to  them  but  to  fight.  The  Apaches  have 
done  us  no  wrong.  Some  of  them  have  married 
our  sisters.  It  is  no  matter.  We  have  had 
wrongs  and  our  hearts  are  sore;  we  must  fight 
some  one.  We  are  not  strong  enough  to  revenge 
ourselves  on  those  who  have  wronged  us.  We 
will  kill  the  Apaches  instead  and  cool  our  anger 
with  blood.  So  we  will  die,  but  die  warriors  !  " 

It  was  a  strange  speech,  but  it  kindled  the  love 
of  fighting  in  Howling  Wolf's  soul.  He  would  be 
a  warrior  too,  some  day.  He  did  not  quite  see 
why  one  should  kill  the  Apaches  however,  or  ex- 
pose oneself  to  be  killed  by  them.  It  seemed  to 
him  eminently  more  fitting  to  kill  the  store-keeper 
who  had  taken  away  their  home  and  unseated  the 
reason  of  the  poor  old  Blanket  Weaver.  It  was 
all  a  wretched  muddle  to  Howling  Wolf.  Perhaps 
if  he  could  have  overheard  a  conversation  between 
the  Captain  and  the  Lieutenant  he  would  have 
understood  the  situation  better. 


THE    LITTLE   SAGE-HEN.  123 

The  Lieutenant  was  happy  and  enthusiastic. 
"  This  is  always  what  I  have  contended  should  be 
done,"  he  said.  "The  Indians  have  made  capital 
soldiers.  Colonel  Cooke  says  that  he  raised  a 
company  of  Pueblos  at  Taos  in  one  day,  and  effi- 
cient fine  fellows  they  were." 

Captain  Hodge  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  It  is 
the  military  policy  to  enlist  them.  The  trouble  is 
that  the  best  fighters  are  against  us.  I  should  like 
to  see  you  raise  a  company  of  Utes  or  Apaches. 
These  Navajoes  are  peaceful  creatures ;  no  more 
spirit  than  cattle,  except  when  they  are  thoroughly 
mad  or  drunk.  But  as  I  said  before,  it's  policy  to 
stir  them  up.  It's  all  nonsense  trying  to  civilize 
the  Indians.  What  we  want  to  do  is  to  extermi- 
nate them.  We  must  exasperate  the  bad  Indians 
in  order  to  make  them  go  on  the  war-path,  that  we 
may  have  an  excuse  to  shoot  them  and  then  pay 
the  peaceable  Indians  to  fight  the  war-like  ones 
that  they  too  may  be  shot." 

The  Lieutenant  drew  himself  up  thoroughly  in- 
dignant. "  I  consider  such  sentiments  unworthy 
of  your  uniform,"  he  said. 


J24       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

The  Captain  laughed.  "  Wait  till  the  campaign 
is  over,"  he  said.  "I'll  warrant  you'll  have  trou- 
ble enough  with  these  Navajo  scouts  to  change  all 
your  skim-milk  Eastern  notions." 

"We  shall  see,"  replied  the  Lieutenant  warmly. 
"  There  are  two  young  men  who  have  enlisted  to- 
day, sons  of  an  old  blanket-weaver,  who  have  such 
honest  determined  faces  that  I  know  I  can  trust 
them.  I  stake  my  opinions  on  their  conduct." 

"And  I  foretell,"  replied  the  Captain  scornfully, 
"that  those  very  chaps  will  fail  you.  Either  they'll 
desert  like  a  couple  of  cowards  at  the  first  scent 
of  gunpowder,  or  they'll  get  wild  with  fighting  and 
go  to  murdering  innocent  settlers.  Look  out." 

There  was  a  school  at  the  Agency,  and  West 
Wind  had  decided  to  attend  it  during  the  coming 
autumn  and  winter.  She  tried  to  persuade  Howl- 
ing Wolf  to  go  with  her,  but  now  that  the  family 
were  settled  the  old  idea  of  the  Lost  Medicine  once 
more  held  his  mind  in  thrall.  If  he  could  only 
find  that,  everything  would  be  straightened  out. 
It  was  evident  to  him  now  that  the  paper  in  which 
the  old  man  so  vainly  trusted  was  not  the  Mecli- 


THE    LITTLE    SAGE-HEN.  125 

cine  of  the  Utes.  He  confided  the  entire  matter 
to  West  Wind ;  and  asked  her  where  he  had  best 
seek  for  it. 

"The  Moquis  have  the  most  powerful  Medicine 
Men  of  any  that  I  know,"  she  said.  "The  priests 
of  the  Snake  Order  make  a  poison-ointment  which 
our  Navajo  braves  sometimes  buy  with  which  to 
rub  their  arrow-points.  Anyone  wounded  ever  so 
slightly  by  such  an  arrow  will  die  in  great  agony 
in  a  few  days,  the  flesh  falling  from  his  bones  while 
he  is  yet  living.  Oh!  they  are  powerful  Medicine 
Men,  but  very  wicked.  They  have  their  great 
Snake  Dance  in  a  few  weeks  in  which  all  the 
Moquis  are  turned  into  devils.  Do  not  go  to 
them.  Stay  and  go  to  school  with  me." 

The  boy's  brow  darkened.  "  I  do  not  like  to 
live  cooped  up  like  the  white  people,"  he  said. 
"  They  are  tame  like  the  ox  and  the  cow,  but  we 
belong  to  the  wild  creatures  —  the  elk,  the  eagle 
and  the  fox." 

"But  the  wild  creatures  may  be  tamed,"  said 
West  Wind.  "  There  is  our  fox ;  he  would  not 
leave  us  now,  and  look  at  the  little  sage-hen  which 


126        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

you  caught;  her  wing  is  healed,  but  she  is  con- 
tented to  stay." 

"That  is  because  you  keep  her  in  a  box  and 
give  her  corn.  Leave  the  door  open  over  night, 
and  if  she  stays  with  you  I  also  will  stay  and  go 
to  the  school." 

With  many  misgivings  West  Wind  tried  the  ex- 
periment. She  left  the  door  of  the  cage  slightly 
ajar,  but  heaped  plenty  of  corn  within.  The  next 
morning  Howling  Wolf  rode  up  to  the  schoolhouse 
door  on  his  pony. 

"  Are  we  to  have  a  new  scholar  ? "  asked  the 
teacher,  smiling. 

"Ask  her,"  Howling  Wolf  replied,  pointing  to 
West  Wind.  The  tears  stood  in  the  girl's  eyes. 
"  The  little  sage-hen  has  gone  to  Moquis  land," 
she  said ;  "  the  enchantment  was  upon  her,  she 
could  not  stay." 

The  boy  gave  a  long  wistful  look  at  West  Wind. 
"The  enchantment  is  upon  me  too,"  he  said  and 
rode  away. 

Where  should  he  go  ?  The  scouts  were  break- 
ing up  their  camp,  in  preparation  to  march.  He 


THE  LITTLE  SAGE-HEM,  127 

knew  that  he  was  too  young  to  serve,  but  perhaps 
the  officers  would  let  him  go  with  West  Wind's 
brothers  —  he  could  ride  as  fast  and  he  would  eat 
very  little. 

From  the  head-quarters  two  officers  were  step- 
ping down  to  their  horses  which  orderlies  held  for 
them.  Orfe  of  the  officers  was  quite  short,  and 
round.  He  wore  a  great  deal  of  gold  on  his  uni- 
form, and  he  had  a  loud,  commanding  voice.  The 
other  officer  was  younger  and  slighter,  and  in- 
stinctively Howling  Wolf  determined  to  ask  him. 
He  circled  once  around  the  buildings  to  put  his 
pony  to  its  best  paces  and  then  dashed  up  toward 
head-quarters.  The  shorter  and  stouter  man  threw 
up  his  hand  with  an  oath  —  and  the  younger  man 
joined  in  the  exclamation:  "The  enchanted 
pony ! " 

The  recognition  was  mutual.  Quick  as  a  flash 
the  pony's  head  was  turned.  With  throbbing  heart 
the  boy  urged  him  away  from  the  Post  out  over  the 
bluff  and  the  level  mesa.  There  was  shouting  and 
pursuit  for  a  little  way,  then  the  command  were 
ordered  back. 


128       HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

But  Howling  Wolf  darted  on  and  on  —  away 
from  West  Wind  and  the  school,  away  to  the  west, 
to  the  Moquis  Land,  away  from  the  hated  white 
men  and  away  —  if  he  had  but  known  —  further 
and  still  further  from  the  Lost  Medicine. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    GARDEN    OF    THE    GODS. 

THE  Denver  and  Rio  Grand  railroad  threads  its 
way  through  the  most  picturesque  regions  of 
Colorado.  In  and  out  among  awe-inspiring  mount- 
ain peaks,  through  stupendous  canons,  and  by  the 
side  of  dizzy  gorges  this  adventurous  little  railway 
climbs  or  tunnels  or  zigzags. 

A  merry  party  from  Washington  had  been  play- 
ing hide  and  seek  for  weeks  with  the  great  Colo- 
rado mountains  by  following  the  windings  of  this 
fascinating  road.  The  party  consisted  of  an  old 
Senator,  his  wife,  and  his  daughter  Helen,  whose 
clear  eye  took  in  the  wonderful  panorama  of  the 
everlasting  hills  which  "  God  ploughed  one  day 
with  an  earthquake,"  with  the  deep  solemnity  of 
an  earnest  soul,  but  whose  quick  sense  of  the 
humorous  gathered  all  the  bits  of  fun  in  her  way, 
129 


130       HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

and  whose  sparkling  fancy  was  a  continual  delight 
to  all  about  her.  They  had  passed  through  the 
Black  Canon  by  moonlight  in  an  observation-car, 
a  thrilling  experience.  The  cliffs  towered  on  either 
hand  to  a  height  of  two  and  three  thousand  feet, 
and  were  so  near  on  one  side  that  a  hand  stretched 
from  the  car  would  have  been  torn  from  the  body. 
The  black  water  dashed  on  the  other  side  close 
under  the  cars,  and  the  trees  were  reflected  in  it  as 
from  a  Claude  Lorraine  glass. 

"  This  is  simply  stupendous,"  said  the  Senator, 
baring  his  head  in  the  "pure  emotion  of  astonish- 
ment ;  "  "  no  other  word  expresses  it." 

"It  reminds  me  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death  drawn  by  Gustave  Dore,"  said  the  Senator's 
wife. 

In  the  centre  of  the  canon  rose  a  wonderful 
pinnacle  of  pink  stone  —  the  Currecanti  Needle. 
"They  say,"  said  a  fellow-traveller,  "that  the 
Utes  used  to  have  their  council-fires  on  a  shelf 
part  way  up  the  rock.  What  a  weird  look  it  must 
have  had  with  the  firelight  flashing  back  from  the 
crags  on  the  dancing  red  demons." 


THE    ROYAL   GORGE,  ON   THE   DENVER   AND    RIO   GRANDE    R.    R. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    THE    GODS.  133 

"The  Utes?"  Helen  asked.  "What  Indians 
are  they  ?  " 

"A  mean  set,"  replied  the  Colorado  gentleman, 
"  though  they  do  tell  some  decent  things  of  their 
former  chief  Ouray.  All  this  land  was  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  Utes,  and  when  the  mining  fever 
broke  out  the  white  population  just  turned  crazy 
and  swarmed  in  upon  them.  The  general  then 
in  command  here  issued  an  order  that  the  miners 
shouldn't  go  a  foot  further  without  the  permission 
of  the  Utes,  and  things  looked  pretty  threatening 
when  Ouray  came  forward,  like  a  gentleman,  and 
bid  the  miners  welcome.  I  don't  know  how  true 
it  is,  but  he  took  our  side  at  the  time  of  the 
Meeker  Massacre,  and  threatened  his  men  with 
death  if  they  did  not  submit.  Then,  too,  he  fed 
many  a  starving  miner,  and  on  the  whole  I'm  in- 
clined to  credit  it.  No  one  but  a  Ute  would  have 
been  such  a  fool." 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  a  Ute,''  said  Helen.  "  What 
you  say  interests  me  in  them.  Are  there  any 
about  here  now  ?  " 

"  Bless  you,  no  !  we  have  them  pretty  well  cor- 


134        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

railed  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State,  and  we  are 
in  hopes  soon  to  rid  Colorado  of  them  altogether. 
They  are  a  dirty,  lazy,  thievish  set,  my  dear  young 
lady,  and  as  soon  as  you  see  them,  you  will  say 
that  the  romance  which  you  hear  about  them  in  the 
East  has  no  foundation  whatever." 

"Your  friend,  the  Lieutenant,  who  is  to  meet  us 
at  Manitou,  has  been  stationed  among  the  Utes," 
said  the  Senator,  "  he  can  tell  us  about  them." 

This  happened  before  Captain  Hodge  and  the 
Lieutenant  had  been  transferred  to  the  Depart- 
ment of  New  Mexico,  and  so  it  chanced  that  the 
two  officers  obtained  a  furlough  and  presented 
themselves  one  evening  at  the  Senator's  camp  just 
above  Manitou,  one  of  the  most  charming  mount- 
ain resorts  which  the  world  has  to  offer. 

It  was  ideal  camping ;  that  old  army  cam- 
paigner, Captain  Hodge,  was  hardly  willing  to  call 
it  by  that  name ;  for  the  Senator  had  a  log  house 
of  two  rooms  built  over  a  rollicking  little  brook, 
crossed  at  the  doorstep  by  a  rustic  bridge.  There 
were  skins  and  rugs  on  the  floor,  lace  curtains  at 
the  windows,  cord  bedsteads,  and  a  dressing-table 


THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS.         135 

constructed  of  the  packing  box  furbished  out  with 
a  ruffled  muslin  dress  of  Helen's.  The  cooking 
department  was  an  "  A  "  tent  stationed  at  a  con- 
venient distance,  while  another  of  similar  make 
was  provided  for  their  guests.  But  the  charm  of 
the  place  was  in  the  landscape.  They  were  sur- 
rounded by  the  mountains  shouldering  each  other 
away  to  where  Pike's  Peak,  like  the  Veiled  Prophet 
of  Kolahassan,  kept  his  head  shrouded  in  mystery. 
Below  them  was  Manitou  with  its  villas  and  spring 
houses,  and  Swiss  chalets  clinging  to  the  mountain 
side.  Across  the  mesa,  just  out  of  sight,  was  Colo- 
rado Spring  with  its  busy  life,  while  above  and  all 
around  them  were  the  Eternal  Silences. 

Fine  horses  were  sent  up  to  them  every  morn- 
ing and  the  staple  amusement,  of  which  they  never 
tired,  was  riding.  Once  they  explored  Ute  Pass, 
and  Helen  asked  why  it  was  so  named.  The  Lieu- 
tenant was  her  escort,  and  he  replied  that  he  be- 
lieved that  Manitou  was  formerly  a  favorite  resort 
of  the  Utes  who  came  down  the  mountains  in  long 
procession  through  this  pass  bringing  their  aged 
and  sick  to  avail  themselves  of  the  healing  springs. 


136       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  Tell  me  about  the  Utes,"  said  Helen,  "  I  am 
interested  in  them." 

"There  was  one  Ute  boy,"  replied  the  Lieuten- 
ant, "  in  whom  I  was  greatly  interested  ; "  and 
then  he  told  the  story  of  Howling  Wolf,  of  his 
love  for  his  pony,  of  his  daring  riding,  his  bravery 
and  unaccountable  escape.  "  I  love  that  Indian 
boy  yet,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "and  am  sure  some- 
thing could  be  made  of  him." 

"  Do  try  to  find  him,"  pleaded  Helen,  "  and 
papa  and  I  will  see  that  he  is  educated  in  the 
East." 

"  That  was  my  idea  at  first,"  replied  the  Lieu- 
tenant sadly.  "  I  thought  he  would  do  honor  to 
West  Point.  But  I  am  afraid  he  doesn't  want  to 
be  educated." 

On  another  day  Helen  rode  with  Captain  Hodge 
through  the  Garden  of  the  Gods.  She  found  this 
ride  one  of  grotesque  surprises.  The  sublime  is 
never  far  from  the  ridiculous,  and  in  the  weird 
valley  through  which  they  rode  nature  seemed  to 
have  wearied  of  her  grand  effects,  and  to  have  taken 
holiday  in  a  spirit  of  mimicry  and  caricature. 


THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS.        137 

Columns  of  red  sandstone  have  here  been  worn 
by  wind  and  drifting  sand  into  grotesque  statues 
which  the  imagination  may  shape  as  it  chooses. 
Helen  kept  discovering  gigantic  griffins  and  As- 
syrian and  Egyptian  deities. 

One  splintered  pinnacle  reminded  her  of  West- 
minster Abbey,  but  the  Captain,  who  did  not  quite 
catch  the  remark,  assured  her  that  he  thought  it 
looked  more  like  a  church  than  a  woman !  He 
proved  very  quick  however  in  detecting  resem- 
blances to  animals,  The  Buffalo's  Head,  Mount- 
ain Rat,  the  Deer,  Alligator  and  Kissing  Camels, 
and  he  pointed  out  the  famous  Seal  and  Bear,  and 
entertained  her  with  spirited  stories  of  hunting  and 
racing. 

"  I  owned  a  pony  once,"  he  said,  "  which  I  would 
have  liked  to  see  yours,  Miss  Helen.  It  knew 
nearly  as  much  as  a  human  being.  The  Indians 
all  called  it  'the  Enchanted  Pony.'  It  beat  even- 
race  in  which  it  was  ever  entered,  and  as  a  trick- 
pony  had  no  superior  in  any  circus." 

"  How  did  it  happen,"  Helen  asked,  "  that  you 
parted  from  such  a  treasure  ?  " 


138        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

"A  little  sneak  of  an  Indian  stole  it  from  me," 
the  Captain  replied  with  some  wrath.  "  I  found 
it  afterwards  secreted  in  an  old  cliff-dwelling  and 
thought  I  had  secured  it  finely,  but  on  the  first 
night  after  my  find  the  young  rascal  stole  it  from 
me  again.  I  presume  he  has  taken  it  to  the 
Apaches.  I  hear  that  Geronimo  has  been  raiding 
up  through  the  northern  part  of  New  Mexico,  and 
has  been  securing  all  the  horseflesh  he  can  lay  his 
hands  on.  The  Indians  all  help  one  another,  and 
although  the  Utes  are  apparently  at  peace  with 
us  just  now,  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that  they 
play  into  the  hands  of  the  Apaches." 

"I  wonder  whether  you  will  ever  find  your 
pony  again,"  Helen  said  musingly. 

"If  I  do,"  replied  the  Captain,  "will  \ou  do 
me  the  honor  to  accept  it  at  my  hands  ?  " 

"  I  fear  that  would  be  entirely  too  valuable  a 
present,"  said  the  startled  girl. 

"  Nothing  would  be  too  precious  for  you,"  re- 
plied the  Captain,  growing  very  red  in  the  face. 
"  Such  loveliness  as  yours  would  melt  the  heart  of 
a  —  Great  Caesar!  if  there  isn't  an  Indian." 


THE   GARDEN    OF    THE   GODS.  14! 

Helen  turned,  hardly  knowing  whether  to  be 
most  frightened  or  relieved.  At  the  foot  of  one  of 
the  wildest  shaped  rocks  stood  a  woman  of  more 
than  ordinary  stature.  She  was  clothed  in  a  dress 
of  deerskins  fringed  and  richly  embroidered  with 
quills  and  beads,  and  strange  tassel-like  ornaments 
of  hair  fastened  at  irregular  intervals  across  the 
front.  Helen  did  not  at  first  comprehend  that 
these  were  scalp-locks,  and  she  looked  at  them 
with  simple  curiosity.  A  belt  of  leather  bossed 
with  silver  confined  her  singular  drapery  to  her 
person.  She  held  a  pointed  stick  with  which  she 
had  been  digging  at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and  her 
face  with  its  setting  of  floating  gray  hair  was  so 
wild  that  it  instantly  suggested  Meg  Merrilles. 

"  She  is  a  Ute,"  said  the  Captain  ;  "  I  thought 
they  were  not  allowed  off  their  Reservation,"  and 
he  addressed  the  woman  roughly  in  her  own  lan- 
guage. 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  "  Helen  asked,  as  the 
woman  replied  volubly  with  many  expressive  gest- 
ures. 

"She    is    crazy,"    replied    the    Captain,    "and 


142        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  ramble  at  large.  She 
says  that  her  name  is  Two  Tongues,  that  she  is 
the  sister  of  a  chief,  and  that  she  has  come  to  this 
country  to  search  for  the  Lost  Medicine  of  the 
Utes.  Her  face  is  strangely  familiar  to  me.  I  am 
sure  that  I  have  seen  it  before.  Ah  !  I  remember 
—  when  I  was  on  the  trail  of  that  little  Ute  horse- 
thief  she  threw  herself  in  our  way  and  tried  to 
persuade  us  that  he  had  gone  north  to  the  Un- 
compahgres.  She  may  be  shamming  insanity  now. 
They  are  all  great  liars." 

This  was  not  the  last  time  that  Helen  was  fated 
to  meet  Grandmother  Two  Tongues.  The  next  day 
she  visited  one  of  the  mineral  springs  for  which  the 
place  is  famous.  It  was  one  in  which  many  coins 
had  been  found,  deposited  there  by  the  Indians  as 
offerings  to  the  healing  spirit.  Outside  the  door, 
parleying  with  the  keeper,  stood  the  weird  woman 
whom  Helen  had  seen  in  the  Garden  of  the  Gods. 

The  doorkeeper  appealed  to  the  Lieutenant. 
"  The  woman  is  evidently  crazy,"  he  said.  "She 
wants  to  examine  the  spring,  and  says  that  there 
is  a  powerful  charm  belonging  to  her  nation  buried 


PA-I'.H     •-vT/      • 

••;/  :,  .  -''frS. ".  • 


THE  GARDEN   OF   THE   GODS.  145 

in  it.  Of  course  we  can't  have  her  here.  Will 
you  keep  her  talking  while  I  slip  away  for  the 
proper  person  to  arrest  her  ? " 

"  Why,  I  know  her  !  "  exclaimed  the  Lieutenant ; 
"  she  is  the  grandmother  of  Howling  Wolf,  the 
boy  of  whom  I  told  you,  Miss  Helen.  I  well  re- 
member how  she  tried  to  turn  us  from  his  trail." 

Helen's  mind  seemed  to  her  to  turn  a  complete 
somersault.  Then  the  boys  of  whom  the  Lieuten- 
ant and  the  Captain  spoke  were  the  same  person ; 
but  they  had  given  them  very  different  characters. 
Which  was  the  true  one  ?  Was  Howling  Wolf  a 
horse-thief,  or  were  there  two  enchanted  ponies  ? 
Was  the  Lieutenant  mistaken,  or  had  the  Captain 
told  her  a  falsehood  ? 

While  she  was  puzzling  over  these  things  the 
Lieutenant  engaged  the  witch-woman  in  conver- 
sation. She  recognized  him  instantly,  and  began 
to  beg  piteously  for  her  grandson.  She  soon 
caught  Helen's  dress  and  begged  her  to  intercede 
for  the  return  of  the  boy. 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  "  asked  Helen,  half-fright- 
ened, half-touched,  by  her  evident  distress. 


146        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  She  thinks  that  we  must  have  captured  Howl- 
ing Wolf  as  he  has  not  returned  to  his  own  tribe. 
My  good  woman,  I  have  no  idea  where  your  grand- 
son is.  I  shut  him  up  in  an  old  cliff-dwelling,  but 
he  vanished  in  the  night  like  smoke,  and  I  am 
much  obliged  to  him  for  not  having  first  chloro- 
formed us  all  with  a  scalping  knife." 

The  gate-keeper  now  returned  with  the  authori- 
ties, who  led  the  woman  away  screaming  and 
struggling  with  all  her  might. 

"  What  will  they  do  with  her  ? "  asked  Helen. 

"  She  will  be  sent  back  to  her  Reservation,  from 
which  she  is  now  miles  away." 

"  But  do  you  suppose  there  is  any  truth  about 
the  charm  in  the  spring  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  the  gate-keeper  ;  "  it  is  a 
wonderful  healing  spring,  and  if  you  are  troubled 
with  muscular  rheumatism,  or  poison  ivy  or  nettle- 
rash  "  —  but  Helen  had  walked  away. 

That  evening  they  talked  of  wild  life  and  of  the 
Indians.  "  This  is  all  play-camping,"  she  said, 
"with  game  that  has  been  brought  on  ice  for  a 
hundred  miles  on  the  cars,  and  trout  sent  over 


THE   GARDEN   OF   THE   GODS.  147 

every  Friday  from  the  hotel.  There  is  none  of 
that  delicious  sense  of  insecurity,  of  being  miles 
away  from  any  other  white  person,  with  Indians 
and  bears  and  wolves  prowling  near,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  Here  there  is  not  a  speck  of  danger 
except  from  father's  rifle  which  has  not  been 
cleaned  for  a  month  and  may  go  off  sometime 
when  the  maid  takes  it  into  her  head  to  dust  it." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  Miss  Helen  wants,"  ex- 
claimed Captain  Hodge.  "  She  is  pining  for  a 
little  real  campaigning.  She'll  enjoy  a  scout  with 
the  troops  on  the  open  plains,  such  as  Mrs.  Custer 
sometimes  took  part  in  with  her  husband.  Now  I 
propose  that  you  all  go  back  with  us  to  Fort  Lewis. 
The  railroad  takes  you  on  the  way  through  some 
of  the  finest  scenery  in  Colorado.  The  Toltic 
Gorge  is  sure  to  make  you  dizzy.  Why,  you  can 
pitch  a  stone  from  the  car  window  fifteen  hundred 
feet  down  into  the  canon  and  there  are  the  Sangre 
du  Cristo  Mountains ;  and  if  you  choose  to  go  on 
to  Silverton  there  is  the  Las  Animas  Canon  which 
beats  Switzerland  any  day." 

It  was  a  long  speech  for  the  Captain. 


148       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"Your  programme  is  a  fascinating  one,"  said 
the  Senator;  "  we  will  consider  it." 

It  would  probably  have  been  adopted  ;  but  a 
few  moments  later  a  telegram  was  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  Captain  which  created  nearly  the 
same  effect  that  a  lighted  match  might  have  done 
in  a  powder  magazine.  When  he  quite  recovered 
his  breath  he  explained  that  the  Apaches  were  on 
the  war-path,  and  that  his  regiment  had  been 
transferred  to  the  department  of  New  Mexico, 
where  he  and  the  Lieutenant  were  ordered  to  re- 
port without  delay. 

"  It  is  possible  we  may  meet  again,"  said  the 
Senator,  "  for  we  shall  go  down  to  Santa  Fe  for  the 
autumn." 

"  If  I  come  across  the  Enchanted  Pony,"  said 
the  Captain,  "  I  will  send  it  to  you  at  Santa  Fe." 

And  as  they  parted,  and  the  Lieutenant  took 
Helen's  hand  for  a  moment,  he  too  preferred  a 
request : 

"  If  I  find  Howling  Wolf,  as  I  may,  for  I  fear 
he  has  gone  to  the  Apaches,  may  I  send  him 
to  you  ?  I  will  gladly  provide  for  his  support  if 


THE   GARDEN    OF   THE   GODS.  149 

I  live  ;  and  if  I  should  be  shot  may  I  rely  that  you 
will  find  the  proper  school  for  him  ? " 

And  Helen  gave  back  the  frank  friendly  look. 
"  If  you  live  we  shall  share  this  work  together," 
she  said;  "if  you  die,"  and  her  lip  quivered,  "  I 
shall  regard  it  as  a  sacred  trust." 

The  first  military  duty  which  Captain  Hodge 
and  the  Lieutenant  were  called  upon  to  perform 
in  the  new  department,  was  the  enlistment  of 
Navajo  scouts.  To  do  this  it  was  necessary  for 
them  to  make  a  long,  perilous  journey  straight 
across  a  portion  of  the  country  frequently  raided 
by  Geronimo,  the  chief  of  the  hostile  Apaches,  to 
Fort  Defiance,  a  lonely  outpost  now  used  as  the 
Navajo  agency.  Here  among  the  newly-enlisted 
men  the  Lieutenant  was  particularly  struck  by  the 
manly,  honest  bearing  of  two  young  men,  Man- 
uelito and  Tonias,  sons  of  an  old  Blanket  Weaver 
who  wandered  about  the  Post  in  a  crazed  con- 
dition. The  Lieutenant  had  spoken  to  the  old 
Weaver,  for  there  was  something  in. the  man's 
appearance  which  suggested  the  wreck  of  noble 
things ;  but  he  had  only  replied  by  complaining 


150        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

that  he  had  been  brought  far  from  his  ranche,  and 
he  wanted  to  go  home. 

"How  is  this?"  the  Lieutenant  asked  of 
Tom  as; 

But  the  uncomplaining  youth  did  not  explain. 
He  touched  his  own  forehead  significantly,  and  per 
suaded  the  old  man  to  wander  back  to  his  wretched 
hogan,  and  the  Lieutenant  had  no  idea  of  the  great 
wrong  which  had  been  done  the  poor  creature. 

Just  as  they  were  setting  out  on  their  expedition, 
a  boy  mounted  on  a  beautiful  pony  came  riding 
swiftly  toward  them ;  and  just  as  the  Captain  and 
the  Lieutenant  fancied  that  they  recognized  Howl- 
ing Wolf  and  the  Enchanted  Pony,  he  wheeled  and 
skimmed  over  the  mesa.  They  followed  hotly,  but 
the  pony  and  its  rider  disappeared  so  quickly  that 
they  were  almost  inclined  to  think  them  an  appara- 
tion  or  a  trick  of  their  own  imaginations. 

That  evening,  however,  as  they  sat  by  their 
little  camp-fire  after  their  first  day's  march,  Man- 
uelito approached  the  officers  respectfully.  "  That 
boy,"  he  said,  "that  runaway  boy,  nice  pony, 
know  him  heap." 


THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS.        151 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Lieutenant,  "do  you 
know  Howling  Wolf  ?  " 

The  man's  simple  face  brightened.  "Yes,  all 
same  Howling  Wolf,  Ute  boy,  know  him  heap." 

"He  is  a  young  thief,"  said  the  Captain.  "That 
is  my  pony." 

Manuelito  looked  up  incredulously.  "  Ute  boy, 
Ute  pony,  all  same.  Know  pony  heap  —  nice 
pony,  nice  boy.  Live  my  father,  eat  heap  corn  — 
all  same  brother." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  has  gone  ?  "  the  Lieu- 
tenant asked. 

"Ute  boy,  maybe  gone  home,"  replied  Man- 
uelito. 

"That's  so,"  assented  the  Lieutenant,  "that's 
the  most  likely  conclusion  to  make.  Of  course  he 
has  gone  back  to  the  Ute  Reservation,"  and  taking 
out  his  writing  materials  he  began  a  letter  to 
Helen  detailing  his  adventures,  and  another  to  the 
Ute  agent  begging  to  be  informed  should  Howling 
Wolf  appear  in  the  bosom  of  his  family. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   SNAKE    DANCE. 

AS  Howling  Wolf  rode  on  the  country  grew 
more  and  more  waste  and  desolate.  The 
only  animals  which  he  saw  were  the  nimble  prairie- 
dogs,  and  here  and  there  a  rattlesnake  which  rus- 
tled through  the  dry  grass.  The  yucca  rose  here 
and  there  from  its  bayonet-like  spikes,  a  fountain 
flower,  its  white  bells  glistening  in  the  sunlight 
like  bubbles.  The  pony,  accustomed  for  some 
time  past  to  good  feeding,  scorned  the  dry  herb- 
age and  whinnied  discontentedly. 

Away  on  the  western  horizon  Howling  Wolf 
could  see  the  bluffs  of  the  Province  of  Tusayan, 
where  lie  the  seven  towns  of  the  Moquis,  and  he 
urged  on  the  lazy  and  unwilling  pony.  He  had 
looked  from  time  to  time  for  the  little  sage-hen. 
It  would  not  have  been  strane  if  he  had  met 


THE    SNAKE    DANCE.  155 

numbers  of  them,  but  he  had  a  superstitious  feel- 
ing that  the  very  one  which  had  escaped  from 
West  Wind  would  appear  and  serve  him  as  guide. 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  foot  of  the  butte 
however  before  there  was  any  sign  which  even  his 
credulous  imagination  could  regard  as  supernatu- 
ral guidance.  In  a  little  copse  which  skirted  a 
small  stream,  where  he  stopped  to  water  his  pony, 
he  unexpectedly  came  upon  a  young  woman  who 
was  gathering  willow-withes  for  basket  making. 
She  was  decently  clad  and  wore  a  precious  neck- 
lace of  moose-teeth  and  charms.  Her  abundant 
black  hair  was  parted  in  two  portions  and  arranged 
on  each  side  of  her  head  in  great  bows  or  wagon- 
wheel  puffs.  She  looked  at  Howling  Wolf  in 
wide-eyed  surprise. 

He  addressed  her  civilly  in  the  sign-language, 
which  is  a  medium  of  communication  between  dif- 
ferent tribes,  asking  her  name  and  nation. 

"  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah  (the  Little  Sage-Hen),"  she 
replied ;  and  Howling  Wolf  instantly  concluded 
that  the  shy,  mysterious  fowl  had  been  allowed  to 
take  a  bodily  shape,  to  communicate  with  and  di- 


156       HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

rect  him ;  and  when  on  learning  that  he  had  come 
to  see  the  snake-dance,  the  young  woman  told  him 
that  her  husband  was  one  of  the  dancers,  and  was 
at  that  moment  collecting  reptiles  on  the  mesa,  to 
be  used  in  the  ceremonies,  and  invited  him  with 
simple  hospitality  to  visit  with  them  until  the  fes- 
tival was  over,  he  accepted  the  offer  with  gratitude. 

Wolpi,  the  village  to  which  they  were  going,  is 
situated  on  a  butte,  or  ledge,  overlooking  the  prai- 
rie, and  rising  from  it  like  an  island  from  the  sea 
to  a  height  of  nearly  five  hundred  feet.  At  first 
sight  the  sides  of  the  cliff  seemed  almost  perpen- 
dicular; but  his  guide  showed  him  a  tortuous, 
narrow  path  winding  between  the  clefts. 

Arrived  at  the  summit,  Howling  Wolf  found 
himself  in  a  large  village  built  of  adobe,  or  sun- 
dried  bricks,  and  of  stones  rudely  cemented  to- 
gether and  plastered  with  mud.  Some  of  the 
houses  were  two, -three  and  even  four  stories  in 
height,  the  upper  rooms  opening  upon  the  flat 
roofs  of  the  lower  ones.  The  town  was  swarming. 
Beside  the  usual  inhabitants  there  were  a  number 
of  visitors  in  the  town,  attracted  by  the  approach- 


THE   SNAKE    DANCE.  159 

ing   festival.      These   were    Indians   of   different 

O 

tribes  as  well  as  of  the  surrounding  towns,  and 
two  or  three  white  men.  With  characteristic  pride 
in  their  ceremonies  and  generous  hospitality  the 
poor  people  had  given  of  their  best  to  these  stran- 
gers, in  several  instances  vacating  their  own  homes, 
and  camping  in  the  open  plaza,  that  their  guests 
might  be  lodged. 

The  horses  and  burros  of  the  town  were  turned 
into  a  corral,  or  enclosure,  and  the  Enchanted 
Pony  was  herded  with  the  rest,  exciting  remarks 
of  admiration  from  all  who  saw  him.  Among 
others  a  dark-looking,  under-sized  man  who  was 
standing  near  the  gate  of  the  corral  patted  it,  ex- 
amined its  good  points  and  asked  Howling  Wolf 
what  he  would  take  for  it.  The  boy  assured  him 
that  the  animal  was  not  for  sale.  "  How  far  can 
he  travel  in  a  day  ? "  the  man  asked,  disregarding 
Howling  Wolf's  answer. 

"  I  left  Fort  Defiance  this  morning,"  said  he. 

The  man  started,  ever  so  slightly.  "  Were  there 
any  blue-button  men  there  ? "  he  asked. 

Howling  Wolf  told  him  that  there  were  officers 


160       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

forming  a  company  of  Navajoes  to  fight  the 
Apaches.  The  man's  long  taper  fingers  clenched  ; 
but  he  remarked  indifferently:  "Your  pony  has 
made  over  sixty  miles,  and  does  not  seem  tired,  he 
could  do  more  at  a  push."  He  took  out  a  long 
purse  filled  to  the  brim  with  Mexican  silver  dol- 
lars. "  Name  your  price,"  he  said. 

Howling  Wolf  still  shook  his  head. 

"  I  could  take  him  for  nothing,"  said  the  man. 

The  boy  smiled.  In  a  civilized  community,  in 
the  towns  and  cities  of  white  people,  Howling  Wolf 
might  have  feared  for  his  pony's  security;  but 
here  among  a  people  considered  expert  horse- 
thieves  he  knew  that  he  was  perfectly  safe. 

Later  in  the  evening  he  was  regaled  with  an 
abundant  supper  of  jerked  beef  fried  with  onions, 
and  a  dessert  of  delicious  peaches.  He  ate  rather 
more  than  was  good  for  him,  for  he  had  not  tasted 
beef  since  he  had  left  his  own  home,  and  the 
peaches  were  a  great  luxury.  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah 
told  him  that  they  possessed  an  orchard  of  this 
fruit  in  a  little  fertile  valley  miles  away.  She 
showed  him  a  large  and  curious-shaped  basket, 


THE    SNAKE    DANCE.  l6l 

which  she  had  braided  from  the  leaves  of  the 
yucca;  there  were  ears  or  loops  of  horse-hair  at- 
tached to  the  sides  through  which  she  could  slip  a 
leather  strap,  which  she  passed  around  her  fore- 
head, the  basket  resting  on  her  shoulders.  In  this 
way  she  was  in  the  habit  of  bringing  a  half  bushel 
of  peaches  at  a  time,  she  said,  from  their  distant 
orchard.  She  showed  him  also  other  very  beauti- 
ful baskets  of  her  own  make.  They  were  flat  or 
saucer-shaped,  of  coiled  structure  very  closely 
woven  and  decorated  with  gay  colors  and  original 
designs.  They  might  almost  have  held  water,  and 
were  used  for  the  finest  of  meal.  Howling  Wolf 
could  not  help  admiring  the  ingenuity  displayed  ; 
and  as  he  remembered  the  skill  of  the  Blanket 
Weaver  a  new  desire  sprung  up  in  his  heart  —  to  be 
able  to  make  something  beautiful.  He  had  never 
felt  so  before,  and  he  wondered  at  himself. 

After  the  supper  the  boy  amused  himself  by  sit- 
ting on  the  roof  and  watching  the  busy  life  of  the 
town.  The  dancers,  one  hundred  and  thirty  young 
men,  who  formed  the  secret  society  of  the  Snake 
Order,  were  descending  into  the  underground  es- 


162       HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

tufa,  or  council  chamber,  to  spend  the  night  in 
incantations  and  orgies.  As  they  passed,  the 
Sage-Hen  sprinkled  them  with  sacred  meal.  They 
marched  on  chanting  a  strange  song  and  waving 
little  wands  decorated  with  eagle  feathers.  A  tall 
Indian  followed  the  procession  to  the  door  of  the 
estufa,  but  did  not  enter.  He  was  however  treated 
with  such  consideration  that  Howling  Wolf  was 
sure  that  he  must  be  a  distinguished  guest,  and 
was  not  surprised  when  told  that  he  was  a  cele- 
brated Medicine-man  of  the  Zufiis,  a  member  of 
the  Prey  Brother  Priesthood,  a  great  hunter  and 
magician. 

In  an  angle  of  a  building  not  far  away  he  saw 
too  the  man  who  had  wished  to  buy  his  pony. 
There  was  a  woman  with  him,  who,  he  was  sure, 
was  not  a  Moqui,  for  her  hair  was  not  arranged  in 
the  wagon-wheel  rolls. 

"  Who  are  they  ? "  he  asked,  pointing  them  out 
to  the  Sage-Hen. 

"  She  is  a  stranger,"  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah  replied. 
"  She  has  taken  refuge  with  us  while  her  husband 
is  away  with  the  Apaches." 


THE   SNAKE   DANCE.  163 

"  But  is  not  that  her  husband  ?  " 

"Who?"  said  the  Sage-Hen;  "there  is  no  one 
with  her."  And  Howling  Wolf  looking  again  saw 
that  the  woman  was  alone.  She  had  drawn  her 
shawl  over  her  head  and  Howling  Wolf  noticed 
that  it  was  a  Mexican  one,  of  sky  blue  crepe,  em- 
broidered with  green  parokets  and  crimson  dah- 
lias, which  seemed  to  the  boy  a  very  beautiful 
combination.  Presently  she  too  glided  away  and 
the  night  came  down  grand  and  silent  except  for 
the  tom-toms  in  the  underground  estufa. 

The  next  day  was  the  great  day  of  the  dance, 
and  all  was  excitement  in  the  village.  The  best 
rooftops  had  been  rented  for  the  spectacle,  like 
so  many  stalls  at  the  opera.  At  one  end  of  the 
plaza  was  a  stone  altar  around  which  the  Snake 
Order  marched,  chanting  dismally.  They  wore 
tunics,  reaching  nearly  to  the  knee,  and  attached  to 
each  leg  a  rattle  made  of  a  turtle's  shell.  The 
faces  of  the  dancers  were  painted,  the  upper  half 
black  and  the  lower  part  white.  They  seemed 
to  Howling  Wolf  a  band  of  grotesque  demons. 
Shuffling,  dancing,  they  approached  a  huge  sort 


164       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

of  basket  containing  about  two  hundred  coiling, 
writhing  serpents.  Into  this  mass  an  attendant 
would  thrust  his  arm,  and  hand  each  dancer  a 
snake.  The  dancer  would  seize  it  firmly  in  the 
middle  with  his  teeth  and  pass  on,  the  creature 
struggling  about  his  face.  Each  man  in  the  pro- 
cession held  two  eagle's  feathers  with  which  he 
teased  the  snake  and  endeavored  to  keep  it  from 
burying  its  fangs  in  his  face.  Nearly  all  the  rep- 
tiles were  rattlesnakes  and  they  kept  up  their 
angry  rattling,  and  sometimes  coiled  themselves 
about  the  necks  of  their  persecutors. 

The  men  continued  their  dance  until  it  seemed 
to  Howling  Wolf  that  he  would  go  crazy  with  hor- 
ror; round  and  round  their  arms  waving  in  the 
air,  the  loathsome  reptiles  writhing,  hissing,  strik- 
ing at  the  men  who  held  them.  Surely  West  Wind 
was  right  and  the  men  of  Wolpi  were  turned  by 
their  incantations  into  fiends  incarnate.  Not  for 
all  the  medicines  of  all  the  sorcerers  would  he 
remain  in  this  place  and  learn  such  dreadful 
rites. 

After  what  seemed  several  hours  to  the  terrified 


THE   SNAKE   DANCE.  165 

boy,  but  really  at  the  close  of  about  thirty  minutes, 
the  men  suddenly  threw  all  the  reptiles  in  one 
wriggling  heap.  The  Sage-Hen  and  several  other 
squaws  who,  robed  in  white,  had  been  set  apart 
to  the  task  of  sprinkling  the  dancers  with  prayer- 
meal,  rushed  with  loud  shrieks  from  the  plaza,  and 
at  a  given  signal  the  men  ran  to  the  pile  of  snakes 
and  seizing  as  many  as  they  could  hold,  dashed 
down  the  precipitous  sides  of  the  butte  and  scoured 
away  across  the  plain  to  the  four  points  of  the 
compass,  only  throwing  down  the  snakes  when 
nearly  out  of  sight,  and  then  returning,  panting 
but  still  running,  disappeared  one  by  one  in  the 
estufa.  To  Howling  Wolf's  alarm  several  large 
rattlesnakes  escaped  this  final  gathering-up,  and 
disappeared  in  the  crevices  of  the  buildings.  It 
was  for  this  reason  that  he  looked  closely  at  his 
arrows  and  was  pleased  to  see  that  his  quiver  held 
one  with  a  long  slender  reed  and  a  point  made 
from  a  broken  knife  blade  sharpened  to  a  razor's 
edge. 

As  he  walked  down  to  the  corral  to  water  his 
pony  he  stopped  in  a  deserted  lane  to  look  at  some 


1 66        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 


wooden  effigies  held  very  sacred  in  Wolpi  arranged 
in  a  booth  of  green  branches ;  and  a  feeling  almost 
of  scorn  came  over  him.  They  were  doll-like  fig- 
ures, brightly  painted,  and  on  their  heads  they  bore 

representations  of 
villages,  pyramids 
of  blocks  in  sto- 
ries like  short 
flights  of  steps. 
It  was  the  old 
myth  of  Atlas  sus- 
taining the  world. 
And  this  was  the 
creature  whom  the 
Moquis  believed 
sustained  their 
villages !  It  would 
be  very  easy  to 
carry  it  off  on  his  pony ;  but  Howling  Wolf  was  per- 
fectly sure  that  this  was  not  the  Lost  Medicine  of 
the  Utes.  On  the  summit  of  each  of  the  little  houses 
or  villages  waved  an  eagle's  feather,  and  that  was 
a  sacred  emblem  in  his  tribe  as  well  as  with  most 


A   MOQUI    IDOL. 


THE   SNAKE   DANCE.  167 

of  the  Indians.  He  was  just  wishing  that  lie  had 
an  eagle's  quill  to  feather  his  arrow-shaft  when  he 
heard  an  ominous  rattling.  One  of  the  escaped 
serpents  was  near.  Yes,  there  it  was  gliding  from 
a  bunch  of  red  peppers  along  the  parapet  of  the 
opposite  house,  and  just  beneath,  with  her  blue 
crepe  shawl  draped  carelessly  about  her,  the  green 
parokets  and  crimson  dahlias  rising  and  falling 
on  her  bosom,  sat  a  beautiful  woman.  She  heard 
the  sound,  but  mistook  it  for  an  expected  signal, 
for  she  raised  her  head  and  whispered  : 

"  Geronimo ! " 

The  serpent  glided  on.  In  another  instant  its 
fangs  would  be  buried  in  that  oval  cheek,  but  the 
knife-bladed  arrow  was  on  the  string  and  whizzed 
from  Howling  Wolf's  hand  pinning  the  reptile  to' 
the  wall.  At  the  same  instant  the  low  dark  man, 
whom  Howling  Wolf  had  seen  twice  before,  who 
had  just  entered  the  lane  with  the  Zuni  Hunter 
Priest,  and  who  had  totally  misunderstood  Howl- 
ing Wolf's  action,  sprang  upon  him  like  a  panther, 
drawing  from  his  belt  a  savage  scalping-knife.  But 
the  Prey  Brother  held  his  hand.  "Look," he  said. 


1 68       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  The  boy  meant  your  wife  no  harm.  On  the  con- 
trary he  has  saved  her  life.'"' 

He  drew  him  to  the  wall  and  showed  him  the 
transfixed  rattlesnake.  "  A  nice  shot,"  he  com- 
mented critically;  "the  boy  is  worthy  to  enter  our 
priesthood." 

The  shorter  man  having  assured  himself  that 
his  wife  was  uninjured,  turned  to  Howling  Wolf, 
his  look  of  rage  changed  to  one  of  gratitude. 
"  Come  with  me,"  he  said.  "  I  coveted  your  pony 
yesterday,  to-day  I  covet  you.  You  are  worthy  of 
each  other.  You  will  make  a  great  warrior.  Come 
with  me ;  you  know  not  who  asks  you,  or  you  would 
not  shake  your  head." 

"  I  know.  She  has  spoken  your  name.  You  are 
Geronimo,  the  enemy  of  the  white  man." 

"And  are  you  the  white  man's  friend?"  asked 
the  Apache. 

"  He  has  done  me  no  harm,"  Howling  Wolf 
replied. 

"Wait,  then,"  said  Geronimo  bitterly.  "That 
answer  shows  how  young  you  are.  The  white  man 
will  treat  you  to  injuries  enough  if  they  are  what 


THE   SNAKE   DANCE.  169 

you  want,  and  when  your  heart  is  big  with  hate 
then  come  to  Geronimo  and  he  will  teach  you  to 
revenge." 

With  that  the  man  and  woman  disappeared  and 
Howling  Wolf  was  left  with  the  tall  Zunian,  whose 
appearance  he  liked  better  than  that  of  the  Apache. 

"You  were  right,"  said  the  Hunter  Priest,  "not 
to  go  with  him.  He  hunts  men  and  his  game  will 
turn  upon  him.  Come  with  me  and  I  will  teach 
you  to  be  a  great  hunter  of  all  other  kinds  of  game. 
The  Prey  animals  of  the  six  regions ;  the  moun- 
tain lion  of  the  North,  the  sheep  of  the  Western 
mountains,  the  wildcat  of  the  great  land  of  sum- 
mer—  the  wolf  of  the  East,  where  live  wolfish  men 
by  the  great  Ocean  of  Day,  the  mole  of  the  under- 
world and  the  eagle  of  the  upper  regions  of  air, 
for  each  of  these  I  have  a  Medicine  and  none  can 
resist  my  power." 

"Good,"  said  Howling  Wolf  impulsively.  "I 
will  go  with  you.  But  first  I  must  bid  farewell  to 
the  Sage-Hen." 

Early  the  next  morning  the  Hunter  Priest  and 
Howling  Wolf  set  out  from  Wolpi,  each  mounted 


170       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

on  his  own  pony.  Ez-mah-ah-nee-tah  had  pre- 
sented the  boy  a  basket  of  her  weaving  which 
served  him  as  knapsack  and  contained  food. 
Though  it  was  scarcely  light  when  they  descended 
the  mountain,  and  none  of  the  village  were  astir, 


A   WOLPI    BASKET. 


there  were  fresh  hoof-prints  before  them  —  Gero- 
nimo  and  his  wife  had  descended  the  pass  fully 
two  hours  in  advance  of  them,  and  had  been  met 
at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  by  a  small  party  of  Apache 
warriors,  who  had  been  raiding  the  surrounding 
country  in  search  of  horses.  Their  success  had 


THE   SNAKE   DANCE.  171 

been  poor  and  they  met  their  chief  with  only 
five  indifferent  farm-animals.  Geronimo  was  dis- 
pleased. He  was  even  alarmed,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  returning  to  steal  the  Enchanted  Pony 
and  others  of  the  Moquis ;  but  on  being  informed 
by  one  of  his  scouts  that  a  party  of  United  States 
Cavalry  were  in  camp,  in  a  ravine  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, he  changed  his  mind. 

This  party  had  come  out  in  search  of  him  with- 
out having  any  idea  that  the  game  they  sought  was 
so  near.  They  were  sleeping,  even  the  sentries  doz- 
ing ;  the  horses  were  hobbled  at  a  little  distance. 

Very  cautiously  Geronimo  approached  until  his 
men  had  stolen  in  between  the  soldiers  and  their 
animals.  Quickly  the  ropes  were  cut  and  every 
Indian  mounted.  Then  with  hardly  a  sound  the 
entire  herd  were  driven  over  the  tufted  prairie 
silently  and  swiftly  out  of  sight,  and  the  command 
which  had  camped  that  night  as  mounted  cavalry 
woke  in  the  morning  to  find  themselves  a  company 
of  foot,  not  a  hoof  for  officer  or  man,  or  a  pair  of 
ears  for  the  Quartermaster's  department. 

An    angry  man  was    little    Captain    Hodge,   a 


172        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

deeply  chagrined  man  the  young  Lieutenant. 
Manuelito  and  Tomas,  his  pet  Navajo  scouts, 
shook  their  heads -and  laughed  sheepishly.  The 
men  talked  with  all  their  might,  some  indignant, 
others  frightened,  all  utterly  astonished.  The  en- 
tire camp  was  transformed  into  a  buzzing  nest  of 
hornets.  And  straight  toward  this  hornet's  nest, 
utterly  unconscious  of  the  danger  ahead  of  them, 
rode  the  Hunter  Priest  and  Howling  Wolf. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    TURQUOISE    EAGLE. 

THE  Hunter  Priest  and  Howling  Wolf  had 
ridden   only  a  few  hours  when  the  elder 
drew  rein  and  pointed  to  the  ground  all  trodden 
and  marked  with  hoof-prints. 
"  Ugh !  "  said  the  Hunter  Priest. 
"  Ugh  !  "  replied  Howling  Wolf ;  "  Apaches  ? " 
"No  —  horses  all  shod.     Brass-buttoned  men." 
Howling  Wolf  pointed  to  a  canon  which  showed 
itself  in  the  distance  like  a  crack  or  seam  in  the 
prairie.     From  this  crack  slender  lines  of  smoke 
were  rising.     "  Ugh,"  he  said  ;  "  camp." 

The  Hunter  Priest  shook  his  head  in  a  puzzled 
way,  and  examined  the  hoof-prints  more  carefully. 
"  Fresh  trail,  not  more  than  two  hours ;  horses  all 
go  other  way  —  go  fast,  trot,  gallop.  Left  camp 
hurry  —  all  gone." 


174       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Convinced  that  the  camp  had  suddenly  been 
abandoned  and  that  possibly  something  of  value 
to  themselves  might  be  found  on  the  ground  the 
two  rode  confidently  toward  it.  They  had  pro- 
ceeded about  a  mile  when  the  pony  showed  signs 
of  uneasiness.  He  sniffed  the  air  and  repeatedly 
turned  aside.  Howling  Wolf  took  the  alarm. 
"  He  knows  that  there  are  soldiers  still  there,"  he 
thought,  and  at  the  same  time  it  struck  him  that 
the  camp-fires,  instead  of  going  out  as  they  would 
have  done  had  they  been  abandoned,  were  burn- 
ing more  steadily,  and  that  several  more  had  been 
lighted.  He  communicated  his  doubts  to  his 
companion,  and  the  two  drew  rein.  At  the  same 
instant  two  figures  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the 
canon,  two  officers  whose  uniforms  glistened  in 
the  morning  sun.  One  was  tall  and  slender,  the 
other  short  and  round.  The  short  man  held  a 
field-glass,  with  which  he  swept  the  horizon. 

Excellent  as  were  the  lenses  the  boy  recognized 
the  Captain  before  he  made  out  the  two  Indians, 
and  was  effecting  his  escape  before  pursuit  had 
been  ordered.  The  Hunter  Priest  waited  a  mo- 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  175 

ment  longer,  but  when  he  saw  the  two  soldiers 
joined  by  several  others  and  heard  the  notes  of  a 
bugle,  he  turned  and  scoured  across  the  prairie 
after  Howling  Wolf. 

At  the  same  time  two  Indian  runners,  Navajo 
scouts,  started  from  the  camp  and  set  out  after 
the  retreating  Indians  at  a  steady  dog-trot.  It 
seemed  absurd  for  footmen  to  strive  to  overtake 
mounted  horsemen,  and  so  long  as  the  two  kept 
their  horses  at  full  speed  they  distanced  their  pur- 
suers. But  the  horse  of  the  Hunter  Priest  began 
to  flag,  and  his  curiosity  was  excited  when  he  saw 
that  they  were  followed  only  by  two  apparently 
unarmed  Indians.  He  stopped  accordingly  and 
waited  for  them  to  come  up.  Howling  Wolf,  more 
cautious,  rode  further  on  and  witnessed  the  parley 
from  a  distance.  Suddenly  the  pony  whinnied 
joyfully,  and  turning  trotted  toward  the  new  com- 
ers. "He  knows  them,"  Howling  Wolf  said  to 
himself,  and  a  moment  later  he  also  recognized 
Manuelito  and  Tomas. 

They  told  him  of  the  loss  which  the  troops  had 
just  sustained  and  asked  if  the  missing  horses  had 


176        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

been  seen.  The  Hunter  Priest  could  only  give  it 
as  his  opinion  that  it  was  the  work  of  Geronimo. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Manuelito  asked  of 
Howling  Wolf.  The  Hunter  Priest  replied  that 
he  was  taking  the  boy  with  him  to  hunt  in  the 
Zufii  Mountains. 

"Good,"  said  Tomas;  and  he  explained  that 
these  mountains  were  not  far  from  the  old  ranche 
where  they  had  spent  so  many  happy  days,  and 
that  the  Captain  had  said  that  the  troops  were  to 
march  to  the  nearest  telegraph-station,  which  hap- 
pened to  be  Wild  Cat,  where  they  would  wait  until 
provided  with  horses.  The  probability  was  that 
they  would  remain  at  Wild  Cat  for  several  days, 
and  that  the  two  scouts  would  have  an  opportunity 
to  visit  the  old  ranche  and  secure  various  pieces 
of  property  which  they  had  left  in  their  hasty  leave- 
taking. 

"  Good,"  said  Howling  Wolf,  "  I  will  meet  you 
at  the  ranche  in  three  days." 

"And  we  will  salt  much  corn,"  laughed  Tomas. 

Then  they  shook  hands  and  the  scouts  turning 
trotted  back  to  the  camp.  Captain  Hodge  was 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  177 

angry  when  he  saw  them  come  in  empty- 
handed. 

"  Why  did  you  not  bring  back  those  Apache 
horse  thieves  with  you?"  he  asked  sternly. 

"  No  Apache  ;  Zufii  Indian  no  steal  horse,  own 
pony,"  said  Manuelito  speaking  in  broken  Eng- 
lish. 

The  Captain  who  had  watched  the  interview 
through  his  field-glass,  and  imagining  treachery 
supposed  that  of  course  they  would  lie  to  him, 
continued :  "  If  you  could  not  catch  up  with 
the  Indians  why  did  you  not  return  before  ? " 

"Catch  him  easy,"  replied  Manuelito.  "Zuni 
pony  no  good." 

"I  saw  you,"  thundered  the  Captain.  "You 
did  not  catch  the  pony  at  all.  The  Indian  rode 
back  to  meet  you.  What  did  you  talk  about  for 
so  long  time  ?  You  were  plotting  mischief." 

"  Other  pony  good,  yes ; "  and  catching  the 
Lieutenant's  eye  he  explained :  "  Other  pony  that 
Howling  Wolf." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Lieutenant.  "Howling 
Wolf !  Why  didn't  you  bring  him  in  ? "  and  the 


178        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Captain  fairly  shouted  with  rage  :  "  And  you  let 
the  young  scoundrel  off  again  with  my  pony,  when 
I  have  no  doubt  he  was  concerned  in  the  stealing 
of  our  horses  beside !  You  are  a  pretty  scout ! 
Lieutenant,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  various 
pets." 

"  Howling  Wolf  no  steal  our  horses,"  Manue- 
lito replied  calmly.  "  Geronimo,  he  got  em  this 
time  most  down  Mexico." 

"The  fellow  is  right,"  said  the  Lieutenant;  "I 
do  not  believe  that  Howling  Wolf  was  concerned 
in  stampeding  our  horses,  though  I  do  wish  Man- 
uelito had  brought  him  in."  . 

The  scout  looked  at  the  Lieutenant  steadily  as 
though  to  fathom  his  purpose  with  the  lad.  "  May- 
be see  Howling  Wolf  some  more,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  do,"  said  the  Lieutenant  eagerly,  "  and 
will  bring  him  to  me,  I  will  give  you  —  one,  two, 
three,  four,  five  dollars." 

"And  if  you  let  that  pony  slip  through  your 
fingers  again,"  said  the  Captain,  "I'll  give  you  — 
one,  two,  three,  four,  five  whippings  —  do  you  un- 
derstand ? " 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  179 

The  scout's  brow  clouded  but  he  did  not  reply. 
When  he  talked  with  the  Lieutenant  he  felt  sure 
that  the  white  men  meant  well  to  Howling  Wolf 
and  to  the  Indians  in  general,  but  of  this  little 
Captain  he  was  not  so  certain. 

There  was  no  time  now  for  further  parley,  for 
the  command  were  ordered  to  break  camp,  and  to 
march  as  infantry  across  the  country  to  the  nearest 
railroad  and  telegraph  station,  the  town  of  Wild 
Cat,  familiar  to  the  two  scouts  from  the  wrong 
there  inflicted  upon  their  father. 

When  at  liberty  they  strolled  by  the  store  and 
looked  in  with  darkened  faces,  but  a  stranger 
stood  behind  the  counter  dispensing  whiskey  in 
the  place  of  "Grab-em-all-Joe,"  the  man  who  had 
turned  them  from  their  happy  home.  Manuelito's 
clutch  on  his  revolver  relaxed. 

"  He  is  over  at  the  ranche,  most  likely,"  sug- 
gested Tomas.  "  Perhaps  you  better  not  go.  I 
get  boots  and  canteen  for  you.  You  get  too  much 
pretty  soon  mad." 

"  No,"  replied  Manuelito,  throwing  open  his 
hands,  "  no  more  get  mad.  No  use." 


l8o       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

They  idled  about  the  station  filled  with  the 
greatest  wonder  by  the  manoeuvres  of  the  tele- 
graph operator  whom  they  called  "  the  wire  list- 
ener." The  Lieutenant,  who  found  them  trying 
to  understand  the  young  man's  explanations,  added 
his  own,  making  it  clear  to  them  why  they  could 
not  telegraph  to  places  where  no  lines  existed. 
Manuelito's  heart  was  won.  He  looked  up  at  the 
Lieutenant  with  a  mixture  of  shyness  and  frank- 
ness. "  If  I  bring  you  Howling  Wolf,"  he  said, 
"  Cap'n  Hog,  he  catch  his  pony  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  the  Lieutenant,  "  I  will  have  a 
talk  with  the  Captain,  and  buy  him  off.  The  pony 
belongs  to  the  boy,  and  he  shall  keep  it." 

"  And  Howling  Wolf  go  when  he  please  ?  come 
when  he  please  ?  stay,  eat,  ride  all  same  me,  all 
same  Tom  as  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  promise  you  sacredly  that  I  am  Howling 
Wolf's  friend.  He  shall  be  perfectly  free." 

"Then,"  said  Manuelito,  "to-morrow,  two  days, 
Tomas  and  me  go  find  Howling  Wolf,  bring  him 
back  sure." 

The  Lieutenant  was  delighted  with  this  prom- 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  igl 

ise  and  he  hurried  to  the  Captain  to  speak  to 
him  in  reference  to  the  pony,  little  knowing  how 
impossible  it  would  be  to  induce  him  to  renounce 
this  long  coveted  object. 

In  the  meantime  the  Hunter  Priest  and  Howl- 
ing Wolf  rode  away  toward  the  mountains.  Hunt- 
ing with  the  Zunian  was  a  religious  observance  to  be 
undertaken  with  certain  rites  and  ceremonies  which 
he  now  explained  to  the  boy.*  He  took  from  a 
little  pouch  suspended  about  his  neck  a  fetich,  or 
image  of  an  animal,  on  which  was  tied  an  arrow- 
head. "This,"  said  he  in  his  own  dialect,  "  is  the 
image  of  the  mountain  lion,  the  great  prey-animal 
of  the  North  ;  I  found  it  in  the  mountains.  It  was 
consecrated  by  the  priests  and  now  it  is  my  peculiar 
fetich ;  possessing  it  I  can  hunt  all  the  animals 
which  the  mountain  lion  preys  upon  ;  the  buffalo 
and  the  deer  and  the  bear.  It  is  the  most  power- 
ful fetich  of  all  the  regions.  It  is  for  you  now  to 
go  alone  to  the  mountains  and  seek  fasting  for 
your  fetich." 

*  Mr.  Frank  Cushing's  article  on  Zuiii  fetiches,  in  the  Second  Annual 
Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  1880-81,  is  the  author's  authority  for 
the  superstitions  described  in  this  chapter. 


182        HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Howling  Wolf  examined  the  little  image.  "  I 
can  carve  a  much  better  representation  of  a  lion 
than  that,"  he  said. 

"That  would  not  do,"  the  priest  explained. 
"  Years  ago  the  Maker  of  Men  killed  many  of  the 
great  prey-animals  with  his  arrows  of  lightning. 
Killed  them,  but  left  their  bodies  shrivelled  and 
turned  to  stone  in  the  mountains.  When  you  find 
these  strangely-shaped  stones  you  find  really  the 
body  of  one  of  these  fierce  animals  made  smaller, 
but  with  the  same  hungry  instinct,  the  same  cruel 
heart-longing  to  prey  upon  the  lesser  game-animals, 
and  if  you  bind  it  upon  your  own  heart  it  will  lead 
you  straight  to  your  game  and  give  you  power  over 
it.  You  cannot  choose  your  own  fetich,  or  tell 
what  species  of  game  you  would  rather  hunt ;  you 
must  find  your  fetich,  and  hunt  the  particular  ani- 
mals over  which  it  gives  you  power." 

The  Hunter  Priest  left  Howling  Wolf  beside  a 
lonely  butte,  and  rode  on  to  his  town,  promising 
to  return  on  the  morrow  and  to  consecrate  what- 
ever image  the  boy  should  find.  Howling  Wolf 
led  his  pony  by  the  bridle  and  sought  carefully 


HOWLING    WOLF   SENDS    HIS    MESSAGE    TO    THE    GREAT   SPIRIT. 


THE    TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  185 

among  the  rocks.  He  found  many  splinters  of 
obsidian  or  black  volcanic  glass,  which  he  saved  to 
make  arrow-heads,  a  few  petrified  shells  and  leaves, 
but  no  concretions  resembling  animals.  The  grey 
wolf  would  give  him  power  over  the  eastern  coun- 
try ;  with  a  wild  cat  he  could  hunt  the  antelope 
toward  Mexico  in  the  south  ;  and  with  a  coyote 
he  could  follow  the  mountain  sheep  to  the  west- 
ern sea.  But  he  longed  especially  for  the  moun- 
tain lion  which  would  make  him  a  hunter  in  his 
own  northern  land  the  mountains  of  Colorado. 
There  were  lava  beds  in  these  mountains,  be- 
lieved by  the  Indians  to  be  the  blackened  blood 
of  a  slain  giant.  Among  these  Howling  Wolf  wan- 
dered when  in  a  dark  cranny  his  eye  was  caught 
by  something  bright  and  shining.  It  was  silver, 
virgin  silver,  in  irregular  nodules  —  a  rich  vein 
cropping  out  to  the  surface  —  a  find  which  would 
have  made  the  fortune  of  any  white  prospector. 
The  boy  did  not  know  the  wealth  that  lay  before 
him,  and  it  would  have  done  him  little  good  if  he 
had  realized  that  he  had  discovered  a  valuable 
silver  mine,  for  he  could  not  have  secured  its 


l86       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

possession  in  any  legal  way.  He  loosened  the 
ore  from  the  rock  with  his  knife  and  after  digging 
for  some  time  in  it  found  what  delighted  him  quite 
as  much  as  the  ownership  of  the  mine  would  have 
done  —  a  small  nodule  of  silver  somewhat  resem- 
bling a  bird,  streaked  on  the  wings  with  turquoise. 
Here  was  his  fetich  —  which  gave  him  power  over 
the  winged  creatures  of  the  upper  air. 

He  descended  from  the  mountain  and  mount- 
ing the  pony  rode  toward  Zufri.  He  reached  the 
town  at  nightfall  faint  with  hunger.  The  Hunter 
Priest  received  and  fed  him,  but  the  town  was 
quite  as  dirty,  though  not  so  poverty-stricken,  as 
the  Moqui  villages ;  and  on  the  whole  Howling 
Wolf  was  not  pleasantly  impressed.  No  life  would 
henceforth  seem  quite  so  desirable  to  him  as  that 
which  he  led  with  the  old  Blanket  Weaver.  Still 
the  desire  to  do  something  had  awakened  within 
him,  and  he  was  pleased  when  the  Hunter  Priest 
expressed  his  surprise  that  he  had  been  so  soon 
successful  in  his  search  for  a  fetich,  and  pro- 
nounced it  one  of  the  most  unmistakably  powerful 
ones  which  he  had  ever  seen.  He  took  it  to  the 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  187 

Keeper  of  the  Deer  Medicine,  who  shaped  it  very 
slightly  —  marked  the  eyes,  bored  a  hole  through 
the  body  by  which  it  could  be  suspended  during 
ceremonies,  and  bound  upon  its  back  with  a  bit  of 
deer's  sinew  an  arrow  point  of  pink  chalcedony. 

"Now,"  said  the  priest,  "you  may  seek  for  any 
winged  creature,  or  for  any  of  the  small  animals 
upon  which  eagles  prey  ;  rabbits  or  prairie  dogs  or 
even  young  antelope.  For  what  will  you  hunt  ? " 

"  I  would  like,"  said  Howling  Wolf,  "  to  capture 
an  eagle." 

"  But  the  eagle  is  a  sacred  bird,"  replied  the 
Hunter  Priest,  "and  you  may  not  kill  it.  You 
may  rob  it  of  its  tail  feathers,  which  are  very  val- 
uable, by  plucking  it  alive  ;  or,  if  you  are  able,  you 
may  take  him  alive  and  clip  his  wings.  But  you 
may  not  kill  the  lord  of  the  upper  regions  of  air, 
the  mediator  between  man  and  Heaven.  This  is 
a  belief  which  is  common  to  all  the  Indians  whom 
I  have  met,  and  even  the  Black  Robes,  the  priests 
of  the  white  men,  believe  with  us  that  the  eagle  is 
the  messenger  between  God  and  man.  They  have 
it  painted  in  their  churches  —  but  very  badly,  so 


l88        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 


that  it  resembles  a  dove  —  and  they  call   it  the 
Holy  Bird  or  Holy  Spirit." 

"Then  if  I  had  an  eagle,"  said  the  boy,  "and 
wanted  at  any  time  to  send  a  message  straight  to 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  you  would  write  it  for  me, 
all  I  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  tie  it  to  the 
eagle's  leg  or  wing  and  let  him  go,  and  Manitou 
would  have  my  message." 

"  Without  doubt,"  replied  the  Hunter  Priest. 
"  Then,"  said  Howling  Wolf,  "  I  will  capture  an 
eagle." 

The  keeper  of  the  Deer  Medicine  and  others  of 

the  old  hunt- 
ers laughed, 
but  the  Hunter 
Priest  frowned 
at  them. 

"The  boy 
will  do  great 
things,"  said  he,  and  taking  out  his  writing  mate- 
rials and  turning  to  Howling  Wolf,  he  asked : 
"What  is  the  message  which  you  wish  to  send  to 
the  Great  Spirit  ?  " 


THE  TURQUOISE    EAGLE. 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  189 

"  Write,"  said  the  boy,  "  Howling  Wolf  asks 
Manitou  to  help  him  in  finding  the  Lost  Medicine 
of  his  tribe." 

The  Hunter  Priest  wrote,  or  rather  painted,  on 
a  strip  of  bark  as  requested  ;  and  very  early  the 
next  morning  the  boy  started  on  his  hunt.  He 
had  received  directions  from  his  friend  and  he 
stole  out  of  the  town  fasting  before  any  one  was 
awake.  Away  to  the  northeast  was  a  lonely  butte 
from  which  rose  abruptly  a  splendid  crag  known 
as  the  Navajo  Church.  By  hard  riding  he  could 
in  one  day  reach  this  pinnacle.  It  was  not  far 
from  the  old  ranche,  and  he  had  often  seen  eagles 
majestically  sailing  about  its  spire.  Very  likely 
there  was  an  eagle's  nest  upon  the  summit. 

All  day  Howling  Wolf  rode  steadily  on,  talking 
to  his  pony  for  lack  of  other  company.  "  We  are 
going  on  a  hunt,  pony,"  he  explained,  "  and  you 
must  be  quiet  and  not  start  the  game."  The  pony 
pricked  his  ears  sagaciously  as  though  he  under- 
stood all  that  was  said.  Perhaps  he  did,  for  a 
little  later  he  stopped  suddenly  and  turned  squarely 
round.  Then  when  Howling  Wolf  shook  the  reins 


190       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

for  him  to  go  on  he  reached  his  neck  backward 
and  gently  bit  Howling  Wolf's  toe,  but  did  not 
utter  the  slightest  noise. 

His  attention  thus  sharply  drawn  the  boy  looked 
keenly  about  him  ;  and  there,  right  in  his  path,  its 
long  ears  alone  showing  above  a  clump  of  sage 
brush,  sat  a  large  cotton-tailed  rabbit,  destined  to 
be  the  first  prey  of  the  turquoise  eagle.  Drawing 
his  bow  string  to  his  ear,  the  knife-bladed  arrow 
whizzed  on  its  way,  and  the  rabbit  speedily  lay 
across  his  saddle-bow.  He  did  not  pause  to  build 
a  camp-fire  and  cook  himself  a  savory  dinner.  No 
morsel  of  food  must  pass  his  lips  until  he  had  se- 
cured the  nobler  game  to  which  he  had  destined 
this  expedition,  but  the  rabbit  would  be  excellent 
bait  for  the  eagles,  and  this  first  success  put  new 
courage  into  Howling  Wolf's  heart. 

He  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain  just  at 
sunset.  He  shaded  his  eyes  from  the  red  glare  as 
he  looked  up  to  the  spire  of  the  Navajo  Church. 
Yes,  slowly  wheeling  about  the  crag,  buoyantly 
floating,  rising,  sinking  with  scarcely  a  perceptible 
flutter  of  the  strong  pinions,  was  a  magnificent 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  19 1 

grey  eagle.  His  plan  for  its  capture  was  a  com- 
mon one,  frequently  adopted  by  Pueblo  eagle- 
hunters.  Turning  his  pony  loose,  he  climbed  as 
far  as  it  was  possible.  Then  collecting  branches 
of  pinyon-trees  he  partially  roofed  a  small  chasm 
in  the  rocks,  making  for  himself  a  hiding-place. 
Concealed  within  he  could  still  view  the  sky  through 
a  large  hole  in  his  green  roof.  On  the  roof  he  laid 
the  rabbit  which  he  had  shot  on  his  way,  and  which 
though  very  hungry  he  had  not  tasted  —  it  was  to 
be  the  lure  for  his  lordly  game.  He  fastened  one 
end  of  his  stout  bow-string  to  the  rabbit  and  the 
other  to  his  own  wrist  and  then  lay  down  in 
his  little  cabin  waiting  the  success  of  his  plot. 
The  night  was  partly  passed  when  these  prepara- 
tions were  completed,  and  the  strong  wings  were 
no  longer  visible.  He  knew  however  that  the 
eagles  were  not  night-birds,  and  that  it  lacked  sev- 
eral hours  to  dawn.  He  was  very  weary  and  not 
a  little  hungry  and  he  fell  asleep  confident  and 
happy,  his  hand  crossed  upon  his  breast  where 
nestled  the  turquoise  eagle  and  the  prayer  which 
he  hoped  soon  to  send  to  the  Great  Spirit.  No 


1Q2        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

one  had  ever  taught  him  how  to  pray ;  but  from 
the  depths  of  his  own  soul  had  sprung  this  yearn- 
ing which  refused  to  be  stifled  and  had  found  this 
way  to  "  mount  up  on  wings  as  eagles  "  and  lay 
his  heart's  desire  before  his  God. 

So  trustfully,  prayerfully,  Howling  Wolf  slept  — 
until  just  at  daybreak  he  was  awakened  by  a  sud- 
den tug  at  his  wrist.  Confused  as  he  was  he  had 
presence  of  mind  sufficient  to  pull  the  cord  with 
both  hands  and  with  all  his  might.  The  eagle's 
claws  were  entangled  in  the  body  of  the  dead  rab- 
bit, and  he  was  dragged  through  the  aperture  of 
the  roof  into  the  darkened  cabin.  Howling  Wolf 
quickly  threw  his  Navajo  saddle-cloth  over  the 
noble  bird's  head,  but  even  then  its  struggles  were 
so  terrific  that  he  had  great  difficulty  in  subduing 
it  sufficiently  to  pluck  the  tail  feathers  which  he 
wished  as  a  proof  of  his  victory,  and  he  found  it 
next  to  impossible  to  affix  his  prayer  to  the  bird's 
leg.  The  cabin  was  filled  with  beating  wings,  and 
Howling  Wolf's  hands  and  even  his  face  were 
scratched  savagely  by  the  eagle's  talons.  But  at 
last  the  missive  was  securely  attached,  and  bear- 


THE   TURQUOISE    EAGLE.  193 

ing  his  captive  out  into  the  light  of  day  he  liber- 
ated him.  Straight  up  to  the  sky  darted  the 
heavenly  messenger,  and  Howling  Wolf  bowed 
his  head  in  thankfulness,  little  suspecting  that  he 
was  himself  a  young,  wild  eagle  for  whom  a  trap 
had  that  day  been  laid,  and  that  his  friends  Man- 
uelito and  Tomas  were  the  lure  to  lead  him  into 
captivity. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ON     THE     WAR-PATH. 

WEST  WIND,  at  Fort  Defiance,  was  having 
her  troubles  as  well  as  her  successes. 
School-work  was  not  difficult  for  her,  for  though 
she  had  been  accustomed  to  an  out-of-door  life 
she  was  used  to  very  hard  labor.  She  was  bright 
and  anxious  to  learn,  and  soon  took  her  place  as 
the  leading  scholar  and  also  the  favorite  of  the 
school. 

Her  troubles  were  at  home.  It  was  not  poverty 
alone,  or  the  loneliness  which  had  come  into  their 
lives  now  that  Manuelito,  Tomas,  and  Howling 
Wolf  had  gone ;  but  the  old  Blanket  Weaver's 
mental  trouble  increased  and  he  was  no  longer 
contented,  but  was  continually  asking  to  go  home. 
He  wandered  about  the  Post  asking  the  way  to 
the  old  ranche,  or  beseeching  the  teamsters  to 
194 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  195 

take  him  there.  It  was  pitiful  and  it  made  West 
Wind's  heart  ache  to  hear  him  beg  for  his  loom, 
and  tell  of  the  beautiful  blankets  which  he  longed 
to  weave.  "  I  want  to  go  home,"  he  would  whim- 
per ;  "  take  me  home,  child,  I  have  bought  some 
beautiful  dye  stuff  at  the  store,  such  blues  and 
reds !  I  will  make  you  a  blanket  —  such  a  blan- 
ket !  Where  is  the  loom  ?  Why  are  we  staying  in 
this  little  hogan  ?  Why  do  we  not  go  home  ? " 

One  day  West  Wind  came  back  from  school  to 
find  her  mother  in  fresh  trouble.  The  old  man 
had  wandered  away.  There  was  a  lame  mule  at 
the  stables  which  had  been  abandoned  by  Captain 
Hodge  on  his  last  visit  to  the  Post,  and  the  person 
in  charge  had  thoughtlessly  lent  it  to  the  old  man, 
supposing  that  he  only  wished  it  for  a  short  trip. 

"  Don't  be  worried,  mother,"  West  Wind  said 
cheerily,  hastily  munching  her  dinner,  a  piece  of 
cold  corn  bread,  "  I  will  soon  find  him  and  bring 
him  back.  The  herder  will  lend  me  one  of  the 
donkeys,  and  1  will  overtake  that  old  mule  before 
night-fall." 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  West  Wind  lost 


196       HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

important  time  by  starting  in  the  wrong  direction. 
She  came  back  at  night  disheartened  and  her 
mother  would  not  allow  her  to  start  out  again. 

How  it  was  that  he  found  his  way  no  one  ever 
knew;  but  the  Blanket  Weaver  on  the  halting  mule 
rode  straight  to  his  old  home.  It  was  deserted, 
for  Grab-em-all-Joe  had  built  a  smart  house  for 
himself  in  another  part  of  the  land.  He  tied  his 
mule,  and  entering  the  hogan,  seated  himself  at  his 
loom  and  was  soon  absorbed  in  filling  his  shuttles. 

But  unfortunately  Joe  had  seen  the  Indian  cross 
the  farm,  and,  leaving  his  ploughing,  he  ran  to  his 
house  for  his  shot-gun  and  stealthily  stole  up  to 
the  hogan.  The  old  man  heard  him  as  he  ap- 
proached, and  turned  his  kindly  face  toward  him 
with  a  bright  smile  of  recognition.  He  had  for- 
gotten every  wrong,  and  only  remembered  the 
early  days  of  their  friendship,  when  the  store- 
keeper had  bought  his  saddle-cloths  and  rugs. 
But  Joe's  evil  conscience  could  imagine  no  other 
cause  for  the  presence  of  the  man  he  had  de- 
frauded, than  a  desire  for  revenge ;  and,  covering 
him  with  his  rifle,  he  ordered  him  roughly  off  the 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  197 

premises.  The  old  man's  face  clouded,  and  as  he 
hesitated,  the  ruffian  ruthlessly  shot  him  down. 

The  murderer  let  loose  the  mule  and  strode  back 
to  his  house,  somewhat  dissatisfied  with  himself. 
He  did  not  believe  that  there  was  any  general  plot 
against  him  on  the  part  of  the  Indians,  but  he 
tried  to  convince  himself  that  the  deed  was  one 
of  self-defence.  Why  was  he  there  if  not  from 
evil  intent  ?  And  at  any  rate  there  was  no  telling 
what  he  might  have  done  if  he  had  been  left  to 
his  own  devices. 

He  at  last  determined  to  ride  over  to  Wild  Cat 
and  report  the  case  to  the  authorities,  and  as  the 
military  were  now  there,  it  might  be  well  to  ask 
for  a  guard  for  a  few  days,  for  an  uneasy  feeling 
had  taken  possession  of  him. 

While  the  gentle  old  man  who  had  never 
wronged  any  one  lay  dead  in  his  hogan  beside  the 
loom  on  which  he  had  labored  so  industriously, 
Howling  Wolf  who  had  just  captured  his  eagle  was 
thinking  of  joining  Tomas  and  Manuelito.  He 
was  very  hungry  and  as  his  fast  might  now  be 
broken  he  built  a  fire  and  made  an  excellent  meal 


198       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONV. 

from  the  rabbit  which  had  served  as  bait  for  his 
eagle. 

As  he  finished  his  breakfast,  he  noticed  a  slen- 
der line  of  smoke  rising  from  another  promontory 
far  away  in  the  southwest.  He  observed  it  with 
idle  curiosity  at  first,  and  then  as  the  cloudy  col- 
umn wavered  strangely,  as  though  fanned  by  a 
blanket,  he  realized  that  this  was  a  signal-fire.  It 
was  the  Apache  mode  of  telegraphy.  Geronimo 
was  probably  not  far  from  that  thread  of  smoke  ; 
doubtless  he  had  scouts  in  this  vicinity,  and  he 
had  mistaken  Howling  Wolf's  camp-fire  on  the 
Navajo  Church  for  a  preconcerted  signal.  Howl- 
ing Wolf  laughed  softly  to  himself  as  he  wondered 
what  news  his  smoke  had  carried  across  the  coun- 
try. Then  he  grew  grave ;  lives  might  be  lost  by 
the  broiling  of  his  breakfast.  He  hastily  trod 
out  the  smoking  embers,  and  descending  the 
mountain  found  his  pony  and  rode  away  toward 
the  ranche. 

On  the  way  he  fell  in  with  Manuelito  and 
Tomas  and  told  them  of  the  signal-fire.  "That 
is  good  news  for  the  Lieutenant,"  said  Manuelito; 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  199 

"the  horses  will  be  sent  on  to-morrow  and  we  will 
follow  up  that  smoke." 

"Geronimo  wanted  me  to  go  with  him,"  said 
Howling  Wolf. 

"  Better  go  after  him  with  us,"  replied  Tomas, 
speaking  freely  and  fluently  in  the  Navajo  lan- 
guage. "  Geronimo  is  a  bad  man  and  he  is  injuring 
all  of  the  Indians,  for  he  makes  the  white  people 
think  we  are  all  like  him,  whereas  we  are  nearly  all 
trying  to  follow  the  white  man's  road ;  and,  Howl- 
ing Wolf,  we  too  have  had  a  wrong  idea  of  white 
men.  We  have  only  seen  bad  white  men  like  Grab- 
em-all-Joe  the  store-keeper,  who  used  to  cheat 
the  Indians.  But  I  believe  the  greater  part  of  the 
white  men  mean  kindly  to  us.  Since  we  have  been 
with  the  brass-button  men  I  have  become  sure  of 
this.  There  is  the  Lieutenant.  He  knows  you, 
Howling  Wolf,  and  he  told  me  if  you  would  go 
back  with  us  he  would  be  your  fiiend.  We  have 
always  found  him  good  to  us,  have  we  not, 
Tomas?" 

Tomas  grunted  an  emphatic  consent,  but  Howl- 
ing Wolf  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  "  What  does 


200       HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

he  want  of  me  ?  I  let  him  alone,  why  can't  he  let 
me  alone  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  likes  you,"  said  Manuelito. 

Howling  Wolf  laughed  mockingly. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Manuelito. 
"  The  winter  is  coming,  you  say  you  are  not  going 
with  Geronimo,  you  are  many  miles  from  home  — 
what  will  become  of  you  ? " 

Howling  Wolf  bared  his  breast  and  showed  the 
fetich.  "I  will  hunt,"  he  said.  "See  these  eagle 
feathers.  Manitou  gave  them  to  me.  Manitou 
takes  care  of  the  coyotes  —  he  will  take  care  of 
Howling  Wolf." 

"See  here,"  said  Manuelito  impressively,  "Man- 
itou is  taking  care  of  you ;  he  has  sent  the  brass- 
button  men  to  give  you  food  and  clothing.  We 
trust  them.  They  have  been  good  to  Tomas  and 
me.  Come  with  us." 

Howling  Wolf  thought  for  a  moment,  "/do  not 
trust  them"  he  said,  "  but  I  trust  you.  I  will  go 
with  you." 

"Good,"  said  Tomas,  "then  let  us  go  back  at 
once.  We  met  Grab-em-all-Joe  a  little  while  ago 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  2OI 

as  we  rode  over  from  Wild  Cat,  and  though  we 
turned  aside  to  let  him  pass  he  threatened  us  if  we 
dared  set  foot  on  the  ranche." 

"  I  can  see  the  hogan  now,"  said  Howling  Wolf. 
"  There  is  some  one  there.  I  can  see  a  horse  at 
the  door  with  a  red  saddle  cloth." 

"  Listen ! "  cried  Manuelito.  "  Do  you  not  hear 
the  Navajo  death-wail  ?  Come,  quickly." 

But  Tomas  caught  his  brother's  arm.  "  It  is 
impossible  that  there  should  be  Navajo  Indians 
there  now,"  he  said.  "What  you  hear  must  be  evil 
spirits." 

Manuelito  spurred  his  horse  forward  and  the 
others  followed.  At  the  door  of  the  hogan  stood 
the  lame  mule,  whose  doleful  braying  must  have 
been  the  cry  which  Manuelito  had  heard.  The 
hogan  was  silent  and  apparently  deserted,  yet  all 
hesitated  to  enter.  Howling  Wolf  was  the  first  to 
do  so,  and  never,  to  his  dying  day,  will  he  forget 
the  sight  which  met  his  eyes.  He  knelt  beside 
the  murdered  Blanket  Weaver  and  tried  to  restore 
him  to  consciousness,  chafing  his  hands,  and  rais- 
ing his  head.  But  it  was  too  late.  Manuelito  and 


202        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Tomas  regarded  the  boy's  efforts  with  deep  but 
unexpressed  feeling.  At  length  Manuelito  roused 
himself.  "  We  must  hurry,"  he  said.  "Grab-em- 
all-Joe  may  soon  return  and  shoot  us  all,  and  there 
is  much  to  do.  As  father  has  died  in  the  hogan 
his  soul  cannot  get  out  until  we  have  pulled  the 
walls  down.  We  will  therefore  bury  him  at  once, 
and  make  clear  way  for  his  spirit." 

A  shallow  grave  was  quickly  dug  in  which  the 
old  man  was  buried,  and  the  hogan  was  levelled 
above  the  grave. 

Tomas,  searching  about  the  premises,  found 
some  tar  of  the  pinyon-tree,  which  he  smeared  on 
all  their  faces  as  a  sign  of  mourning,  and  as  a 
protection  against  Chinde,  the  devil. 

This  done  the  little  party  were  preparing  to 
proceed  to  Wild  Cat  in  order  to  report  the  affair 
without  delay  to  the  Lieutenant,  when  Grab-em- 
all-Joe  suddenly  appeared  with  his  guard  of  sol- 
diers. He  was  greatly  excited  when  he  saw  the 
demolished  building,  and  called  loudly  upon  the 
soldiers  to  fire  on  the  Indians.  The  men  recog- 
nizing the  scouts  refused  to  do  this,  but  arrested 


' '     '  c, 

V 

-1  '•    '• 
1.    ! 

v  "fe,   .  •     V 


,(rv  1, 

.'v       / 

,!•)  f 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  205 

the  entire  party  and  marched  them  off  toward 
headquarters. 

Only  Manuelito  and  Tomas  were  bound.  Howl- 
ing Wolf  rode  beside  Tomas.  He  was  thoroughly 
frightened.  "  I  shall  get  away,"  he  said,  "  at  the 
fording  of  the  creek.  I  shall  go  back  to  the 
Navajo  Church.  If  all  is  right  you  can  call  for 
me  there  to-morrow." 

At  the  creek  he  found  the  opportunity  he  ex- 
pected and  dashed  away  up  a  little  side-canon  and 
off  across  the  darkening  prairie.  The  men  were 
too  few  to  follow  and  at  the  same  time  guard  their 
prisoners,  and  he  was  unpursued. 

All  the  next  day  he  waited  in  his  eyrie,  but  no 
one  came.  Toward  evening  he  killed  a  prairie 
fowl  and  cooked  it  as  he  had  done  the  rabbit. 
And  again  as  before  there  was  an  answering  col- 
umn of  smoke,  but  this  time  from  a  little  copse  of 
trees  only  a  few  miles  distant.  It  gave  the  lad  a 
sense  of  companionship  to  know  that  there  was 
some  one  near,  talking  with  him  though  he  could 
not  understand  what  was  said. 

He   sat   patiently  waiting   for   news   from    his 


206       HOWLING   WOLF   AND   HIS  TRICK-PONY. 

friends,  when  he  heard  a  shuffling  sound  at  the 
foot  of  his  rock.  Then  his  pony  gave  a  shrill 
scream  and  started  across  the  plain  at  a  gallop. 
Howling  Wolf  grasped  his  arrows,  for  he  knew  that 
just  below  him,  though  concealed  by  the  overhang- 
ing rock,  was  some  enemy.  His  first  impulse  was 
to  rush  to  the  edge  and  see  what  the  threatened 
danger  was.  But  he  restrained  himself;  as  he 
had  not  seen  the  creature  so  probably  it  had  not 
yet  spied  him.  He  lay  flat  upon  his  breast  and 
listened  acutely.  The  shuffling  continued  with  a 
heavy  lumbering  sound  as  though  of  some  large 
body  brushing  against  the  side  of  the  cliff.  Pres- 
ently there  was  a  scratching  and  slipping  —  the 
creature  was  trying  to  climb  up  the  rock  —  accom- 
panied by  a  sniffing  and  grunting,  which  told  him 
plainly  that  his  pursuer  was  not  one  of  the  soldiers 
as  he  had  at  first  imagined,  but  some  great  animal, 
attracted  by  the  fragrance  of  his  supper,  probably 
a  bear,  anxious  to  share  his  meal  with  him  and 
ready  to  devour  his  host  as  second  course. 

Very  cautiously  Howling  Wolf  crept  to  the  edge 
of  the  rock,  to  find  his  fears  realized.     There  was 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  207 

a  huge  grizzly  bear  climbing  up  the  ragged  wall 
toward  him. 

The  boy  gripped  his  fetich,  and  then  turned  sick 
as  he  thought  how  powerless  it  was  in  the  present 
instance.  Of  what  avail  was  a  great  eagle  against 
a  mountain  bear?  The  beast  saw  him  now  and 
crept  a  little  nearer,  snuffing  in  a  significant  and 
unpleasant  manner.  Howling  Wolf  rolled  some 
loose  stones  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  and  sent 
them  crashing  down  upon  the  brute.  One  of  them 
struck  the  animal  upon  his  nose  and  clapping  his 
paw  to  the  injured  part,  the  creature  lost  his  hold 
and  rolled  to  the  ground.  But  it  was  only  infuriated 
by  the  pain,  and  in  no  way  disabled.  Growling  sav- 
agely it  proceeded  to  make  a  more  deliberate  survey 
of  Howling  Wolf's  citadel,  and  seeing  a  more  easy 
way  of  mounting  again  climbed,  this  time  surely 
and  successfully,  to  the  summit.  Howling  Wolf 
saw  that  his  only  safety  lay  in  flight,  and  as  soon  as 
the  hairy  muzzle  appeared  above  the  wall  he  made 
speed  to  leap  down  from  the  other  side,  leaving 
the  brute  in  undisputed  possession  of  the  little 
plateau.  Then  he  set  out  at  a  run  in  the  direction 


208        HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

in  which  his  pony  had  taken.  At  first  he  could 
not  >see  his  four-footed  friend ;  but  on  giving  his 
peculiar  wolfish  howl,  the  faithful  creature  ap- 
peared from  behind  a  butte  and  approached  his 
master  doubtfully. 

Throwing  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  Howling 
Wolf  saw  the  reason  for  the  pony's  hesitation. 
The  bear  was  pursuing  him  at  an  easy  trot,  and 
gaining  upon  him  rapidly.  It  was  in  vain  that  he 
whistled  and  entreated ;  the  pony  dashed  about 
in  a  circle,  would  approach  him  trembling,  and 
then,  panic-stricken,  wheel  and  canter  away.  He 
loved  his  little  master,  but  Howling  Wolf  was  sub- 
jecting his  friendship  to  too  great  a  test. 

Howling  Wolf  could  hear  the  bear  panting  be- 
hind him,  and,  desperate,  snatching  his  tomahawk 
from  his  belt,  he  turned  and  hurled  it  at  his  foe. 
Attempting  at  the  same  time  to  run  backward,  he 
fell  and  before  he  could  recover  himself  the  bear 
was  upon  him.  He  had  missed  his  mark.  As  he 
felt  the  pressure  of  the  animal's  fore-foot  upon  his 
breast,  he  abandoned  all  hope  of  life. 

Still  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  was  strong 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  209 

within  him  and  with  the  strength  of  despair  he 
attempted  to  throttle  the  creature.  As  he  did  so 
his  fingers  felt  something  under  the  shaggy  hair ; 
a  collar !  The  animal  was  not  a  wild  one,  but  a 
half-tamed  pet  escaped  from  its  owner;  and  so 
accustomed  was  he  to  subjection  that  when  he  felt 
the  boy  grip  and  twist  the  collar,  he  lifted  his  paw 
and  submitted,  growling. 

Howling  Wolf  stood  up,  still  keeping  his  hand 
upon  the  collar,  and  sorely  puzzled  as  to  what  to 
do  next.  The  pony,  astonished  at  the  turn  which 
matters  had  taken,  but  not  sufficiently  reassured 
to  approach,  trotted  back,  to  the  Navajo  Church. 
The  bear  also  seemed  inclined  to  return  in  that 
direction,  and  Howling  Wolf  concluded  to  accom- 
pany him,  and  they  proceeded  together,  each 
equally  distrustful  of  the  other.  On  his  way  he 
managed  to  pick  up  his  tomahawk,  with  which  he 
felt  a  little  safer. 

Suddenly  an  Indian  approached  him  mounted 
on  Howling  Wolf's  own  pony,  and  shouting  in  the 
Apache  tongue  :  "  Let  go  my  bear !  What  are 
you  doing  with  my  bear  ?  " 


210       HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Howling  Wolf  laughed.  "  What  are  you  doing 
with  my  pony  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Get  down  and  I 
will  be  glad  enough  to  change." 

"Your  pony!"  retorted  the  strange  Indian,  "it 
is  easier  to  say  that  than  to  prove  it." 

"  You  will  believe  it,  perhaps,"  Howling  Wolf 
replied,  "  if  I  order  the  pony  to  throw  you  and  he 
obeys  me." 

The  Indian  replied  with  a  derisive  gesture,  at 
which  Howling  Wolf  uttered  a  cry  and  clapped 
his  hands,  whereupon  the  pony  planted  all  of  his 
feet  close  together  and  humped  his  back  rapidly. 
Off  went  the  Indian,  and  Howling  Wolf,  daring 
now  to  leave  the  bear,  sprang  to  the  pony's  back. 

The  strange  Indian  rubbed  his  shoulder  good- 
naturedly.  "  Who  are  you  ? "  he  asked  ;  "  and 
what  are  you  doing  around  the  Navajo  Church  ? " 

Howling  Wolf  explained  that  he  was  waiting  for 
friends  now  in  the  custody  of  the  soldiers  at  Wild 
Cat.  The  strange  Indian  scowled  savagely. 

"  You  will  never  see  your  friends  again,"  he 
said.  "  I  have  just  come  from  Wild  Cat,  where  I 
have  been  exhibiting  my  bear.  (I  live  in  a  cave 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  211 

under  this  mountain  and  when  I  wish  to  know 
what  is  going  on  I  take  my  bear  out  and  exhibit 
it.)  The  two  young  men,  your  friends,  are  to  be 
hung.  They  have  been  ordered  to  the  next  fort 
as  prisoners." 

Howling  Wolf  nearly  leaped  from  his  pony. 
"  Hung ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  Manuelito  and  Tomas 
hung  I  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  other  stolidly,  "for  an  at- 
tack on  the  ranche  of  Grab-em-all-Joe,  and  for 
communicating  with  the  Apaches  by  signals  when 
they  should  have  been  tracking  them  as  scouts." 

"  It  is  false,"  cried  Howling  Wolf.  "I  will  go 
to  the  Lieutenant  and  tell  him.  I  was  with  them. 
They  made  no  attack.  They  have  made  no  sig- 
nals." 

"  Who  would  believe  you  ?  The  soldiers  caught 
them  in  the  act  of  tearing  down  a  house  at  Joe's 
ranche.  Let  them  hang.  There  were  signals.  I 
myself  saw  them  —  a  fire  from  this  rock,  telling 
the  Apaches  that  the  brass-button  men  had  left 
this  region  —  a  lie  —  and  Geronimo  believed  it  for 
he  is  near.  I  saw  his  answering  smoke  this  morn- 


212        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

ing  and  hurried  back  to  set  the  danger-signal. 
They  are  traitors  to  Geronimo.  How  did  they 
find  out  our  signals  ?  Why  did  they  get  permis- 
sion to  leave  Wild  Cat  long  enough  to  make  the 
fires  and  then  go  back  again,  if  not  to  lure  the 
Apaches  into  danger  and  then  betray  them  ?  Let 
them  hang." 

"  If  this  were  true,"  Howling  Wolf  exclaimed, 
"the  soldiers  would  not  wish  to  hang  them.  I 
made  the  fires  myself." 

"You?"  exclaimed  the  old  Indian,  laying  his 
hand  upon  his  knife. 

"  I  made  them  to  cook  my  dinner.  I  had  no 
idea  that  they  would  be  taken  as  signals." 

"  But  what  were  you  doing  here  at  my  lookout  ? 
Fifty  years  have  I  been  Medicine-Man  and  seer 
for  the  Apaches.  I  travel  before  them  with  my 
bear  and  the  Navajo  Church  is  an  old  signal-sta- 
tion of  ours,  the  northernmost  one  we  have.  Ge- 
ronimo never  ventures  so  far  except  when  he  sees 
the  smoke  banner  waving  from  its  summit.  Lucky 
if  I  am  not  too  late  to  warn  him.  What  were  you 
doing  here,  I  say  ? " 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  213 

"  I  was  hunting  eagles,"  Howling  Wolf  ex- 
plained, pointing  to  the  cabin  which  he  had  built 
and  extending  the  feathers.  "  You  are  a  Medi- 
cine-Man," and  you  know  the  value  of  these. 
Take  them  as  a  present,  and  if  you  have  any 
charm  that  will  save  my  friends  give  it  to  me." 

"  I  have  no  charm,"  replied  the  Medicine-Man, 
"but  Geronimo  may  be  able  to  rescue  them. 
Ride  straight  to  that  saddle-shaped  mountain,  and 
when  you  reach  it  if  there  is  a  buffalo's  skull  on 
the  summit,  keep  on  to  the  south.  You  will  find 
the  Apaches  in  the  next  canon." 

Howling  Wolf  hesitated.  "  When  are  Manue- 
lito and  Tomas  to  be  hung  ? "  he  asked. 

"  They  are  to  be  sent  to  the  fort  with  a  small 
escort  to-morrow.  They  will  never  leave  it  alive. 
If  you  wish  to  save  them  your  only  hope  is  to  get 
Geronimo  to  stampede  the  party  on  their  way  to 
the  fort." 

"  And  this  is  what  they  get  for  serving  the  white 
men  !  "  Howling  Wolf  mused  bitterly. 

"Treats  them  right,"  replied  the  Medicine-Man, 
striking  his  bear  roughly;  "the  only  luck-bringing 


214        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

Medicine  for  the  Indian  is  the  war-path.  In 
fighting  he  may  be  the  match  of  the  white  man  ; 
in  treachery  and  cheating  he  can  never  be  his 
equal." 

"  Is  this  the  answer  ?  "  thought  Howling  Wolf. 
He  had  asked  Manitou  to  show  him  how  to  find 
his  Lost  Medicine ;  was  it  to  be  recovered  only 
through  blood  ?  He  thought  of  the  old  Blanket 
Weaver  murdered  in  his  own  home,  of  his  friends 
sentenced  to  death  for  no  crime,  and  he  drew  a 
long  bow  and  shot  an  arrow  in  the  direction  of 
the  United  States  camp.  "  I  will  try  it,"  he  said. 
"  Good-by.  I  am  going  to  Geronimo.  We  will 
see  what  help  there  is  in  the  war-path." 


CHAPTER    XI. 

WITH   GERONIMO.* 

THE  report  which  the  Apache  Medicine  Man 
had   given   Howling   Wolf,  however,  was 
only  partly  true. 

Shortly  after  Manuelito  and  Tomas  had  started 
for  the  ranche,  the  horses  expected  by  the  troops 
had  arrived.  A  little  later  the  smoke-signals  had 
been  discovered,  and  the  Lieutenant  had  been  de- 
tailed with  an  escort  to  ride  toward  the  Saddle 
Mountain  and  discover  what  they  meant.  Dur- 
ing his  absence  the  guard  detailed  to  the  ranche 
at  the  request  of  Grab-em-all-Joe,  returned  with  the 

*  The  account  of  Geronimo's  raid  given  in  this  chapter  while  not  a  de- 
tailed report  of  any  one  of  his  numerous  Rob-Roy  adventures,  aims  to  be 
a  typical  picture  true  in  general  characteristic.  While  it  is  largely  drawn 
from  the  author's  personal  observations  in  the  West,  she  is  also  indebted 
to  the  reports  of  Generals  Crook  and  Miles  and  to  the  writings  of  Captain 
John  G.  Bourke,  Lieutenant  John  Bigelow  and  Mr.  Edwards  Roberts. 

2I5 


2l6       HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Navajoes.  Captain  Hodge  was  furious.  "  Here 
are  the  Lieutenant's  pet  scouts,  Manuelito  and 
Tomas,  caught  in  the  act  of  committing  depreda- 
tions on  a  white  settler  and  suspected  of  com- 
municating with  the  enemy  !  I  rather  think  he 
will  have  less  to  say  now  about  trusting  Indian 
auxiliaries." 

He  would  listen  to  no  explanation,  but  ordered 
them  sent  under  arrest  to  the  nearest  military  post. 
Certain  as  he  was  of  their  guilt  his  sense  of  jus- 
tice or  rather  love  of  formality,  told  him  that  they 
ought  not  to  be  executed  without  more  investiga- 
tion than  he  had  now  time  to  make.  This  matter 
was  hardly  off  his  hands  when  the  Lieutenant  re- 
turned reporting  indications  of  Apaches  near  by, 
and  the  command  was  instantly  in  motion. 

It  was  early  morning,  but  the  scouts  who  sought 
for  the  trail  in  advance  of  the  troops  reported  fresh 
hoof-prints ;  those  of  a  single  pony.  For  a  long 
way  they  followed  them,  until  they  blended  into 
the  trail  of  a  mounted  troop.  Howling  Wolf  had 
joined  Geronimo. 

Much  to  the  boy's  disappointment  there  was  no 


WITH    GERONIMO.  217 

attempt  made  to  rescue  his  friends.  Geronimo 
had  made  a  bold  dash  much  further  to  the  north 
than  he  was  supposed  ever  to  raid,  attracted  by 
cattle  pastured  here  by  extensive  cattle  owners. 
He  would  not  have  ventured  so  far  had  he  not 
been  deceived  by  assurances  of  safety  from  the 
smoke-signals,  and  now,  with  United  States'  troops 
pressing  him  closely  in  the  rear,  he  had  no  time 
for  any  one's  business  but  his  own.  Straight  for 
the  south  with  a  line  as  direct  as  the  bee  makes 
through  the  air  the  troop  started  for  Mexico.  They 
were  well  mounted  now  on  the  horses  which  they 
had  stolen  from  the  cavalry.  He  had  secured  sev- 
eral hundred  head  of  beeves  as  well  and  was  ready 
to  return  to  his  stronghold  in  the  Sierra  Madre. 
But  he  had  not  counted  on  being  so  hotly  fol- 
lowed. He  had  imagined  that  it  would  take  the 
soldiers  longer  to  secure  fresh  horses,  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  first  day's  march  there  was  a  brisk 
skirmish  with  the  advance  guard  of  the  troops  and 
the  cattle  were  abandoned. 

Howling  Wolf  rode  by  the  side  of  Geronimo's 
wife.     She  had  a  kind  face  and  she  wore  the  blue 


2l8        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

crepe  shawl  much  soiled,  but  embroidered  with  still 
gaudy  paroquets  and  dahlias.  Once  Geronimo 
suggested  putting  Howling  Wolf  on  another  horse 
as  he  had  himself  taken  a  liking  to  the  pony,  but 
the  woman  took  the  boy's  part,  and  the  change  was 
not  made. 

On  and  still  on  !  Twenty-eight  hours  at  a  stretch 
in  the  saddle,  the  pony  doing  good  work  and  keep- 
ing up  with  the  best.  Then  there  were  hurried 
halts  at  lonely  ranches  and  bloody  deeds  which 
frightened  Howling  Wolf,  murder  and  pillage  and 
fire  marking  their  way  as  they  fled.  In  the  hard 
lines  which  marked  Geronimo's  face  the  boy  saw 
only  cruelty  and  indomitable  will ;  but  the  face 
softened  when  it  turned  toward  his  wife,  and  the 
woman  told  Howling  Wolf  how  Geronimo  had  once 
ventured  into  a  fort  where  she  was  a  prisoner  and 
although  surrounded  by  soldiers  had  managed  to 
rescue  her.  She  had  insisted  on  accompanying 
him  on  his  last  raiding  expedition,  but  finding  the 
country  roused  he  had  left  her  with  the  Moquis  and 
had  been  driven  back  into  Senora  without  her.  His 
present  wild  dash  through  the  country  had  for  its 


WITH    GERON1MO.  2  19 

prime  object  finding  her  again,  though  he  had  been 
tempted  farther  east  by  the  great  herds  of  the 
cattle-men. 

"  He  has  risked  his  life  for  me  many  times,"  she 
said  proudly.  "  The  whole  country  is  afraid  of  him. 
He  has  tired  out  the  army.  General  Crook  has 
caught  him  more  than  once,  but  has  found  him 
harder  to  hold  than  water  in  his  hands.  As  for 
the  Mexicans,  ugh !  they  flee  if  one  but  utter  his 
name." 

As  they  went  further  south  the  country  became 
more  and  more  sterile ;  but  their  commander  knew 
where  to  find  the  rare  springs,  and  the  Apaches 
could  ride  an  entire  day  under  the  burning  sun 
without  water.  They  frequently  ate  their  beef  raw 
for  fear  that  the  smoke  of  fires  would  discover  their 
whereabouts.  They  encountered  a  sand  storm  at 
one  point,  which  was  hailed  with  joy,  for  they 
skimmed  lightly  through  it,  while  they  knew  it 
would  cover  their  tracks  and  confuse  and  embar- 
rass their  pursuers. 

It  was  after  this  tornado  that  Geronimo  gave  or- 
ders for  a  halt.  Some  of  the  men  scattered  chasing 


220       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

wild  turkeys,  others  constructed  small  wigwams 
with  branches  and  blankets  for  the  steam  bath,  of 
which  the  Apache  is  as  fond  as  a  Turk.  Stones 
were  heated  and  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  tent, 
and  water  dashed  upon  the  stones  filled  the  en- 
closure with  steam.  After  this  came  a  plunge  into 
the  river,  then  a  sleep  and  a  meal  of  roast  turkey, 
and  the  band  awoke  ready  for  another  long  ride 
which  carried  them  across  the  border  and  into 
Mexico.  Here  there  was  a  skirmish  with  the  Na- 
tional Guard,  the  Mexicans  verifying  the  predic- 
tion of  Geronimo's  wife  and  fleeing  after  the  first 
shot. 

And  now  the  vegetation  grew  denser  and  more 
tropical  in  character.  Cactus  of  many  species, 
some  higher  than  a  man's  head,  and  covered  with 
flaunting  blossoms,  odorous  night-blooming  cereus 
abounded,  with  parrots  and  humming  birds  more 
brilliant  than  the  flowers  winging  everywhere. 
They  raided  a  ranche  and  supplied  themselves 
with  tropical  fruit,  and  more  cattle,  and  then 
turned  toward  the  mountains.  Over  the  foothills 
covered  with  groves  of  scrub  oak  and  then  up  the 


WITH   GERONIMO.  221 

gorges  of  the  Sierra  Madre.  Only  cedar  now ; 
and  further  on  the  trail  led  over  rocky  promonto- 
ries bare  of  all  vegetation,  but  a  little  river  dashed 
down  the  rocks  and  settled  here  and  there  in  deep 
tanks  and  pools,  affording  abundance  of  water  for 
their  stock. 

Howling  Wolf  was  deputed  to  help  drive  the 
cattle  and  he  found  this  no  easy  task,  for  the  trail 
was  narrow  and  steep  and  sometimes  led  by  the 
side  of  dreadful  chasms.  Now  and  then  a  poor 
ox  lost  his  footing  and  rolled  down  the  precipice 
breaking  his  neck  in  the  gorge  below.  Up  and 
still  up;  and  now  they  began  to  find  signals  — 
skulls  of  animals  arranged  in  a  peculiar  way. 
"That  means,"  said  Geronimo's  wife,  "that  they 
are  all  well  and  expecting  us.  How  glad  I  shall 
be  to  see  my  children  again !  See,  I  have  brought 
them  some  shoes  and  a  doll,''  and  she  showed 
Howling  Wolf  a  pair  of  pink  satin  ball-slippers 
taken  from  a  Mexican  store,  and  a  china  doll  from 
some  American  home. 

It  was  the  first  indication  that  Howling  Wolf 
had  had  that  there  were  other  Apaches  in  this 


222        HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

mountain  fastness  awaiting  the  arrival  of  Geroni- 
mo,  but  presently  smoke-signals  were  seen  in  the 
daytime  in  answer  to  their  own,  and  beacon-fires 
at  night.  The  men  were  happy  and  more  careless. 
They  sang  and  in  intervals  of  rest  played  cards, 
joked  and  fished  for  trout. 

At  length,  on  one  peak  sharper  that  the  rest, 
sentinels  were  discerned,  and  then  a  turn  through 
a  narrow  pass,  which  might  have  been  easily  de- 
fended by  a  few  against  an  army,  showed  them  a 
grassy  valley  and  in  it  a  double  row  of  lodges,  before 
which  women  were  working  and  children  playing. 
There  was  immense  excitement  as  the  party  de- 
scended into  this  stronghold.  Wives  greeted  their 
husbands,  children  were  carried  upon  their  fathers' 
shoulders.  Happiness  was  so  universal  that  Howl- 
ing Wolf  who  stood  a  little  apart  to  observe  the 
meeting,  was  convinced  that  at  length  the  Lost 
Medicine  was  found,  and  that  it  lay  in  vigorous 
resistance  to  the  United  States. 

For  a  time  all  went  merrily  in  the  mountains. 
The  children  played  at  hunting  or  fighting,  cany- 
ing  imaginary  raids  into  the  heart  of  the  States 


WITH    GERONIMO.  223 

and  bringing  away  droves  of  cattle  and  booty. 
What  the  children  played  the  elders  did  in  earnest, 
and  Howling  Wolf  wandered  with  his  fetich  on 
many  a  lonely  hunt,  or  descended  with  the  braves 
for  a  wild  dash  on  some  Mexican  hacienda. 

But  winter  came  with  snow  and  bitter  cold  in 
these  high  altitudes  and  the  band  broke  up,  a  few 
returned  to  their  Reservation  with  promises  of 
good  behavior ;  but  there  were  more  who  did  not 
dare  to  do  this.  Some  had  committed  crimes,  at 
first  under  the  influence  of  whiskey  which  trans- 
forms an  Indian  into  a  fiend,  and  which  had  been 
illegally  sold  them  by  white  men,  and  now  know- 
ing themselves  to  be  liable  to  arrest  felt  that  there 
was  no  better  way  than  to  resist  to  the  bitter  end. 

Others  had  been  defrauded  by  cattle-men,  who 
had  rented  their  lands  and  refused  to  pay,  or  had 
seized  them  without  any  formalities.  Each  had 
some  grievance  of  his  own  beside  the  general  one 
of  the  tribe  —  that  of  being  unconfined  prisoners, 
kept  to  a  comparatively  small  Reservation  where 
they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  roaming  at  their  own 
will.  They  saw  the  iron  walls  of  civilization  clos- 


224       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

ing  around  them,  with  the  avowed  object  of  crush- 
ing them  out  of  existence.  They  had  no  voice  by 
which  to  make  their  complaints  heard,  no  way  of 
attracting  the  attention  of  the  Government  except 
by  making  themselves  a  terror,  often  no  escape 
from  starvation  except  through  rapine. 

Like  "  their  cousins  the  coyotes  "  they  had  been 
hunted,  driven,  shot  down  by  military  and  settlers 
without  inquiring  as  to  their  guilt,  until  the  only 
life  left  to  them  was  that  of  the  wild  beast. 

It  sometimes  seemed  to  Howling  Wolf  that  he 
was  growing  more  and  more  like  his  namesake  —  a 
skulking,  lean  Ishmaelitish  creature  half  cowardly, 
half  reckless,  with  a  wolfish  nature  like  the  coyote 
as  Bret  Harte  describes  him,  stealing  silently  over 
the  prairie  in  the  twilight : 

"  A  shade  on  the  stubble,  a  ghost  by  the  wall, 
Now  leaping,  now  limping,  now  risking  a  fall, 
Loath  ever  to  leave  and  yet  fearful  to  stay, 
A  thoroughly  vagabond  outcast  in  gray." 

The  greater  part  of  the  band  took  refuge  for  the 
winter  further  south  in  the  sheltered  valleys  of  the 
Sierra  Madre?  others  among  the  villages  of  the  Pu- 


WITH    GERONIMO.  225 

eblos  or  building-Indians.  As  these  were  leaving 
Mexico  the  National  Guard  attacked  the  small 
party  with  which  Howling  Wolf  was  travelling, 
and  he  with  a  number  of  women  and  children 
whom  he  was  obstinately  defending  were  captured. 
He  was  mounted  on  his  pony  grown  lean  and  wiry 
but  no  less  rugged  for  its  mountain  scrambling, 
and  he  had  resolutely  kept  his  place  between  the 
squaws  and  the  Mexicans,  guarding  their  retreat, 
which  was  necessarily  slow,  as  many  of  the  wo- 
men were  mounted  on  stubborn  little  donkeys. 
At  last  two  soldiers  caught  the  pony  by  its  bridle 
and  a  third  dragged  Howling  Wolf  from  the  sad- 
dle, disarming  and  pinioning  him  with  the  help  of 
two  comrades,  but  not  before  he  had  made  fierce 
resistance.  One  of  the  Mexicans  mounting  the 
pony,  the  animal  did  not  wait  for  Howling  Wolf's 
yell  of  command  to  throw  its  rider,  but  sagaciously 
"  bucked,"  and  finding  that  his  rider  who  had 
been  a  raquero  was  not  to  be  dislodged  by  this 
means,  went  through  with  all  his  accomplishments 
in  the  way  of  rearing,  rolling,  kicking,  biting,  shy- 
ing, plunging  and  stopping  suddenly,  until  with  a 


226        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

final  leap  he  sent  the  adventurous  soldier  with  a 
back  somersault  through  the  air.  Then  he  threw 
a  vicious  kick  toward  the  nearest  group  which 
doubled  up  two  more  of  the  National  Guard,  and 
turned  in  a  doubtful  way  toward  his  little  master, 
who  shouted  fiercely  the  order  which  the  pony 
knew  meant,  "  Flee  for  your  life,"  and  which  was 
instantly  obeyed.  In  a  moment  more  the  pony 
was  racing  after  the  retreating  Apaches,  and 
Howling  Wolf  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  Ge- 
ronimo  abandon  the  horse  on  which  he  was  riding 
and  leap  to  his  back. 

Some  of  the  Indians  lay  dead  upon  the  ground ; 
these  were  instantly  scalped  by  the  Mexicans,  who 
in  so  doing  showed  themselves  a  grade  below  their 
foes,  for  the  Apache  never  scalps  an  enemy.  The 
bloody  locks,  for  which  a  large  price  had  been  of- 
fered by  the  Mexican  Government,  were  hoisted 
on  long  poles,  and  the  party  took  up  its  line  of 
march  for  the  city  of  Chihuahua,  driving  their  cap- 
tives before  them. 

The  city  gave  the  guard  a  public  reception. 
As  they  marched  down  the  tree-shaded  alameda 


WITH    GERONIMO.  227 

in  triumphal  procession  the  bells  of  every  church 
pealed  out  a  paan  of  frenzied  joy,  guns  were  fired, 
the  men  cheered  and  shouted,  and  the  women 
waved  their  scarfs  and  threw  flowers  to  the  sol- 
diers. Howling  Wolf  drew  closer  to  the  side  of 
one  of  the  squaws  whom  he  had  defended,  a  wo- 
man in  a  dirty  and  faded  Mexican  shawl  itself  a 
trophy  taken  by  her  husband  long  since  from  her 
captors.  Apparently  deserted  by  her  husband  and 
friends,  she  still  bore  herself  with  the  grand  mien 
of  a  conquered  Zenobia.  She  was  confident  that 
Geronimo  would  come  for  her  again,  and  bitterly 
revenge  any  indignity  which  might  be  put  upon  her 
by  these  "dogs  of  Mexicans." 

The  captives  were  huddled  temporarily  in  a  filthy 
dungeon,  and  the  procession  breaking  up  the  more 
pious  proceeded  to  the  cathedral  where  a  Te  Deum 
was  sung  in  honor  of  the  event.  Shortly  after  this 
a  strange  sight  was  seen.  The  captives  were  di- 
vided, sold  would  be  the  truer  term  among  the 
rancheros,  and  Howling  Wolf  and  Geronimo's 
wife  became  the  property  of  the  same  man.  Out 
of  the  city,  away  to  the  north,  to  a  hacienda  or  farm, 


228        HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

they  were  marched  on  the  following  day.  Here 
at  least  were  warm  adobe  houses  and  the  captives 
fared  even  better  than  the  Apaches  who  escaped, 
but  they  were  made  to  work,  and  were  corrected 
by  the  overseer  of  the  peons  with  a  sharp  stick  of 
mescal.  They  were  fed  with  ateol,  a  kind  of  por- 
ridge which  was  hardly  sufficient  to  sustain  them, 
and  the  wife  of  Geronimo  fell  sick  with  longing 
for  the  deliverance  which  did  not  come. 

She  pined  so  day  by  day,  that  at  last  the  master 
of  the  hacienda  turned  her  loose  telling  her  to  go 
where  she  would.  It  was  in  the  early  spring,  the 
weather  inclement,  and  she  the  day  before  had 
been  in  an  apparently  dying  condition ;  but  the 
sense  of  freedom  put  new  life  in  her,  and  she 
trudged  away  full  of  hope  and  happiness.  Before 
she  left  she  bade  Howling  Wolf  be  of  good  cour- 
age, for  he  would  certainly  be  rescued  soon.  The 
season  was  approaching  at  which  the  tribe  would 
take  to  the  mountains,  and  she  would  send  for 
him. 

With  this  hope  at  his  heart  Howling  Wolf  lived 
on  and  labored  to  avoid  the  mescal  stick.  His 


WITH   GERONIMO.  229 

work  was  about  the  corral  in  the  care  of  the  cattle 
and  burros,  and  he  slept  in  a  shed  in  one  corner 
of  the  cattle-pen.  No  one  had  spoken  kindly  to 
him  during  the  entire  winter,  not  even  the  priest 
who  came  occasionally  and  preached  in  the  little 
mud  chapel.  He  had  been  obliged  to  attend  the 
service,  but  he  had  regarded  it  as  white  men's 
"  medicine  "  for  their  own  success,  and  he  had 
hugged  his  precious  fetich  during  the  preaching, 
beseeching  the  Great  Blue  Eagle  which  it  repre- 
sented to  come  and  carry  him  away  in  its  claws. 

He  had  found  some  indigo  and  freshened  up 
the  tattooed  pony  on  his  breast,  fancying  that  the 
brighter  he  kept  the  image  the  sooner  he  would 
see  the  original,  for  all  through  his  weary  captivity 
he  had  kept  up  heart  and  courage  by  his  faith  that 
sooner  or  later  the  pony  would  come  back  to  him 
or  he  to  it. 

And  it  was  the  pony  who  came  back.  One  day 
the  rancheros  brought  it  in,  panting,  frightened, 
trembling  in  every  limb,  worn  thin  with  hard 
usage,  and  shaggy  from  neglect  —  a  miserable- 
looking  little  beast.  Still  there  was  fire  in  its  eye 


230       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

and  plenty  of  go  in  the  sinewy  legs.  Howling 
Wolf  noticed  that  Geronimo  had  hardened  the 
pony's  hoofs  with  a  preparation  of  mescal  render- 
ing them  nearly  as  well  provided  for  mountain 
travel  as  though  shod  with  iron.  The  rancheros 
had  found  the  pony  in  a  wood  a  few  miles  distant 
tied  to  a  tree  by  a  bit  of  rope.  Who  had  left  it 
there  they  could  not  imagine,  perhaps  some  trav- 
eller who  would  appear  and  claim  it. 

So  they  talked  among  themselves,  but  Howling 
Wolf  knew  that  Geronimo  had  passed  by ;  that  he 
had  not  dared  attack  the  hacienda  and  that  his 
wife,  knowing  that  the  rancheros  passed  every  day 
through  this  little  wood,  had  left  the  pony  there  to 
aid  him  in  escaping. 

Howling  Wolf  did  not  go  near  the  pony  while 
the  men  were  present,  but  when  they  were  at  din- 
ner he  stole  into  the  corral  and  covered  it  with 
caresses.  The  poor  creature  recognized  its  little 
master  and  almost  human  tears  trickled  down  its 
face.  Howling  Wolf  fed  it  well  and  hurried  out 
of  the  corral  for  fear  that  the  affectionate  animal 
would  betray  their  acquaintance. 


WITH    GERONIMO.  23! 

He  was  met  by  one  of  the  rancheros  who  took 
him  to  Don  Miguel,  the  owner  of  the  hacienda. 
He  led  Howling  Wolf  to  a  window  and  pointed  to 
a  slender  line  of  black  resinous  smoke  ascending 
in  a  spiral  curve  in  the  direction  of  the  mountains. 
"  That  is  a  smoke-signal  of  Apaches,"  said  Don 
Miguel. 

Howling  Wolf  did  not  reply,  and  Don  Miguel 
went  on  to  explain  that  a  great  reward  had  been 
offered  by  the  Government  to  any  one  who  would 
secure,  or  lead  to  the  securing  of  Geronimo. 
"  You,"  said  the  Don,  "  were  with  him,  you  know 
his  haunts  and  his  signals.  To-morrow  I  shall 
lead  a  band  of  rancheros  in  pursuit  of  him.  We 
will  arrange  an  ambuscade,  and  if  you  will  answer 
his  signals  in  such  a  way  as  to  lead  him  into  our 
trap  you  shall  be  rich  beyond  your  utmost  power 
of  conception."  Don  Miguel  opened  a  small  iron 
bound  chest  full  of  silver  dollars.  "This  shall  be 
yours,"  he  said,  "  if  you  will  call  Geronimo  into 
our  hands." 

Howling  Wolf  laughed  aloud  and  snapped  his 
fingers. in  derision.  This  opportunity  of  rejecting 


232        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK- PONY. 

all  that  could  be  offered  filled  him  with  a  fierce 
joy.  Nearly  all  of  Geronimo's  desperate  followers 
had  had  such  chances,  and  none  of  them  had  ever 
thought  of  being  other  than  incorruptibly  loyal. 

Don  Miguel,  much  incensed,  ordered  his  hands 
and  feet  to  be  tied  with  stout  cord,  and  he  was 
laid  in  his  cabin.  Howling  Wolf  had  already  cut 
notches  in  the  adobe  wall  by  means  of  an  old  stir- 
rup by  which  he  expected  to  climb  over  and  effect 
his  escape  that  night.  But,  now  that  he  was  tied, 
all  hope  seemed  to  have  been  taken  away,  and 
another  night  the  Indians  would  be  far  beyond  his 
reach.  He  struggled  with  his  bonds  until  the 
ropes  cut  into  the  flesh,  but  could  not  break  them, 
and  had  given  up  in  despair,  when  he  heard  a 
mournful  questioning  whinny.  He  had  forgotten 
his  pony.  He  uttered  the  low  wolfish  cry  which 
the  bright  creature  knew  so  well. 

The  shed  was  open  to  the  corral  and  though  it 
was  now  quite  dark  the  animal  found  him  imme- 
diately. For  a  time  Howling  Wolf  had  some  dif- 
ficulty in  making  it  understand  that  he  wished  the 
knots  picked  from  the  cords,  but  at  length  the  in- 


- 


•  ,  •    -. 

•  :?f' 

a 

!•• ;  ••> 

/  I    ,*L^  •  • 


•I  ;p 

» 

.'  'saL    iV/'/^i'      i 

Jl 

31 

'  i  I" 

•^ 

\ 


/V 

\  •  • 

;    >;     .   *       i 

'; 


j# 


'.•;. 


WITH    GERONIMO.  235 

telligent  animal  comprehended  and  performed  the 
task.  Then  it  was  perfectly  easy  to  scale  the  wall, 
and  opening  the  gate  from  the  outside,  he  let  out 
the  pony,  who  was  all  impatience  for  the  start. 

This  rescue  was  the  last  kind  deed  which  his 
pony  was  to  perform  for  him. 

He  caught  up  with  Geronimo  the  following  day 
and  telling  him  of  the  search  which  had  been  or- 
ganized they  hastened  on  with  a  precipitancy  which 
cost  them  dear.  A  scouting  party  of  United  States 
soldiers  were  encamped  in  the  next  valley  and 
upon  them  they  incautiously  rushed. 

The  Apaches  broke  and  wheeled  as  soon  as  the 
troops  were  discovered,  and  again  Howling  Wolf 
skimmed  lightly  back  and  forward  aiding  the 
frightened  squaws  and  children. 

On  came  the  troops.  They  were  cavalry  who 
had  dismounted  on  account  of  the  uneven  ground 
and  were  firing  by  the  side  of  their  Indian  allies. 
They  were  led  by  Captain  Hodge,  who  uttered  a 
fierce  shout  of  exultation  as  he  recognized  Howl- 
ing Wolf  and  the  pony.  "  Aim  for  the  boy,  Lieu- 
tenant," he  cried,  "and  I  will  take  the  pony.  If 


236        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

I  cannot  secure  it  alive  at  least  that  little  wretch 
shall  not  get  off  with  it  again." 

He  snatched  a  rifle  from  one  of  the  soldiers, 
and  screening  himself  behind  a  bowlder,  took  care- 
ful aim.  There  was  a  sharp  report  and  the  pony 
bounded  high  and  fell.  Howling  Wolf  was  on  his 
feet  instantly  and  Geronimo  drew  rein  and  called, 
extending  his  hand  to  help  him  mount  behind  him. 

But  Howling  Wolf  was  deaf  to  any  sound  but 
the  gurgling  moan  in  his  dying  pony's  throat.  He 
ran  to  the  spot  unmindful  that  the  Indians  had  now 
deserted  it  and  that  the  troops  were  swarming  in, 
and  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  taking  his 
pony's  head  in  his  lap.  The  filmy  eyes  recognized 
him  ;  there  was  a  quiver  of  the  sensitive  nostrils,  a 
twitch  of  the  ever-ready  ear  and  his  faithful  friend 
was  gone. 

A  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder  and  a 
gruff  voice  exclaimed,  "  You  little  rascal !  you  are 
my  prisoner  at  last." 

The  boy  struggled  fiercely.  "You  shot  my 
pony!"  he  cried,  endeavoring  to  draw  his  Ute 
knife,  But  a  pair  of  strong  arms  pinioned  him 


WITH    GERONIMO.  237 

from  behind  and  Manuelito  disarmed  and  held 
him  securely,  while  the  Lieutenant  coming  up  ex- 
amined the  dead  pony.  "The  pony  was  to  be 
yours,"  he  said  at  last  to  Captain  Hodge,  "and 
you  have  secured  it.  The  boy  by  your  own  agree' 
ment  is  mine." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   MEDICINE    FOUND. 

IT  was  long  after  the  capture  of  Howling  Wolf 
before  Geronimo  gave  up  the  unequal  fight. 
But  at  last,  leaving  the  deserted  Jesuit  mission  in 
which  he  had  been  hiding;  he  came  into  the  United 
States  camp  and  surrendered  to  General  Miles. 
A  great  breath  of  relief  was  drawn  by  the  settlers 
of  both  Arizona  and  Mexico.  For  years  they  had 
lived  in  terror  of  their  lives.  For  three  years  one 
sixth  of  the  entire  United  States  army  had  fol- 
lowed this  daring  free-booter,  with  an  immense 
expenditure  of  money,  valor,  and  hardship,  and 
with  all  the  appliances  of  the  telegraph  and  rail- 
road on  their  side  to  give  warning  and  to  furnish 
transportation  for  comparatively  unlimited  sup- 
plies. With  the  army  of  Mexico  as  allies,  and 
with  all  civilization  to  back  them,  our  army  in  the 
238  . 


THE    MEDICINE    FOUND.  239 

field  with  over  four  thousand  men,  had  been  suc- 
cessfully defied  and  flouted  by  from  fifty  to  a  hun- 
dred vagabonds ! 

It  was  a  mad  struggle.  Yet  if  our  forefathers 
were  authorized  in  taking  up  arms  against  Great 
Britain  this  handful  of  men  also  had  right  upon 
their  side  in  uttering  their  protest  for  the  whole 
Indian  race  against  tyranny.  People  talk  of  In- 
dian atrocities  but  never  think  of  the  atrocities 
which  have  been  committed  upon  the  Indian  ;  how 
our  government  has  never  kept  a  single  treaty  in 
its  long  "  century  of  dishonor."  Our  fair  land  has 
much  to  account  for  and  it  is  well  that  the  boys, 
the  voters  of  the  next  generation,  should  know  some 
of  the  wrongs  of  the  Indians  and  face  this  great 
problem  with  a  spirit  of  fairness  which  has  not 
hitherto  been  shown. 

Howling  Wolf  was  greatly  surprised  by  his 
meeting  with  Manuelito  and  Tomas.  His  heart 
softened  as  the  scouts  told  him  how  the  Lieuten- 
ant had  exerted  himself  in  their  behalf ;  saving 
them  when  circumstantial  evidence  seemed  so 
much  against  them,  by  laying  bare  before  their 


240       HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

judges  the  character  of  Grab-em-all-Joe,  his  seizure 
of  their  land  and  the  murder  of  their  father,  the 
old  Blanket  Weaver. 

The  scouts  had  been  devotedly  attached  to  their 
Lieutenant  ever  since.  They  had  led  the  sol- 
diers surely  and  unfalteringly  on  the  track  of  the 
Apaches,  travelling  like  them  seventy-five  to  a 
hundred  miles  in  twenty-four  hours,  often  running 
for  entire  days  on  foot  beneath  a  broiling  sun  or 
climbing  mountains  ten  thousand  feet  high,  find- 
ing the  trail  where  no  one  else  could  discover  it, 
and  more  than  once  pointing  out  an  ambuscade. 
The  scouts,  too,  had  saved  the  Lieutenant's  life 
more  than  once,  and  had  proved  themselves  faith- 
ful and  efficient.  They  possessed  all  the  traits 
which  General  Crook  says  render  the  Apache  the 
tiger  of  the  human  species  :  "  acuteness  of  sense, 
perfect  physical  condition,  absolute  knowledge  of 
locality,  and  almost  absolute  ability  to  preserve 
themselves  from  danger."  They  were  now  in  their 
element,  and  were  perfectly  happy,  and  they  took 
Howling  Wolf  to  themselves  with  great  delight. 
As  he  was  not  an  Apache  he  did  not  fall  under 


THE   MEDICINE    FOUND.  241 

the  head  of  prisoners-of-war,  and  the  Lieutenant 
was  allowed  to  incorporate  him  for  the  time  among 
his  scouts. 

Howling  Wolf  himself  did  not  care.  All  of  his 
joy  in  life  had  gone  out  with  the  death  of  his  pony  ; 
they  might  take  him  where  they  pleased  or  do  with 
him  what  they  would  —  it  did  not  matter  to  him. 
He  looked  the  picture  of  listless  indifference. 
Captain  Hodge  said  that  he  was  sullen  and  ugly. 
Manuelito  was  of  the  opinion  that  he  was  sick  — 
"  had  an  evil  spirit  in  his  stomach."  But  the 
Lieutenant  feared  that  his  heart  was  broken. 

The  Senator  and  his  daughter  Helen  were  in 
New  Mexico.  The  Lieutenant  wrote  them  of  his 
acquisition  and  they  met  him  at  once  at  a  frontier 
post  some  distance  from  the  railroad  where  the 
troops  had  been  ordered.  Helen  had  been  in- 
tensely interested  in  what  she  had  heard  of  the 
boy's  history.  Manuelito  told  her  now  all  that 
he  knew,  and  as  she  was  about  to  return  to  the 
East  she  offered  to  take  Howling  Wolf  with  her 
and  place  him  in  some  proper  educational  insti- 
tution. 


242        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

"  I  fear,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "  that  he  will  kill 
himself  from  sheer  homesickness,  and  that  under 
no  circumstances  can  he  become  accustomed  to 
civilization." 

"  Let  me  talk  with  him,"  said  Helen  ;  and  walk- 
ing to  where  he  sat  apart  she  placed  her  hand  on 
Howling  Wolf's  head,  saying,  "  I  saw  your  grand- 
mother in  Colorado." 

The  boy  drew  away  shyly  and  kept  his  gaze 
fixed  on  the  distant  prairie. 

"  She  was  looking  for  the  Lost  Medicine  of  the 
Utes,"  said  Helen. 

A  slight  spasm  swept  over  the  boy's  face  and 
he  gave  her  a  look  both  wondering  and  pleading. 

Grandmother  Two  Tongues  will  not  find  it," 
Helen  continued  impressively  and  kindly.  "  But 
Howling  Wolf  will.  The  Lost  Medicine  of  the 
Utes  is  hidden  at  a  school  for  Indian  boys  and 
girls  where  I  am  told  you  are  soon  to  be  sent,  and 
you  will  find  it." 

The  boy  sprang  to  his  feet,  every  nerve  quiv- 
ering with  excitement.  "  How  you  know  all  this  ?  " 
he  said,  in  broken  English.  "Who  tell  you?" 


THE   MEDICINE    FOUND.  243 

"  I  know  more  about  you,  Howling  Wolf,"  Helen 
said  kindly,  "  than  I  can  tell  you  now.  I  know  all 
about  Manuelito  and  Tomas  and  your  dear  pony. 
A  true  friend  of  yours  has  told  me,  and  how  you 
have  sought  so  long  for  the  Lost  Medicine  of  your 
tribe.  I  think  it  was  Manitou  who  put  it  into 
my  heart  to  come  and  tell  you  just  where  to 
find  it." 

"  When  ?  where  ?  how  ?  "  asked  the  boy  eagerly. 

"  You  must  learn  to  speak  English  first,  a  great 
deal  better  than  you  do  now  ;  you  must  learn  to 
read,  for  you  will  find  directions  about  this  Medi- 
cine in  books ;  and  above  all  you  must  learn  to 
work.  You  will  never  find  the  Medicine  if  you 
are  lazy,  or  untruthful.  You  must  be  patient,  too," 
she  added.  "  It  will  not  come  right  away,  but 
never  lose  hope  or  courage,  for  you  will  find  it !  " 

A  moment  more  and  Howling  Wolf  was  alone, 
staring  as  blankly  as  before  at  the  shimmering 
distance  ;  but  there  was  no  longer  any  listlessness 
in  face  or  attitude,  and  the  day  really  marked  the 
beginning  of  a  new  life.  It  was  long  before  he 
understood  v/hat  the  magic  Medicine  was  for  which 


244        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

he  toiled,  but  through  study,  work  and  waiting, 
there  ran  a  steady,  powerful  persistence  which 
never  lost  sight  of  its  aim. 

Arrayed  in  some  cast-off  clothing  of  the  Lieu- 
tenant's, he  bade  a  cheerful  good-by  to  the  dis- 
appointed Manuelito  and  Tomas  and  took  his 
place  in  the  cars,  guarding  Miss  Helen's  baggage, 
a  perfectly  trustful,  confident  look  in  his  dark  eyes. 
He  shook  hands  with  the  Lieutenant  politely,  but 
it  was  plain  that  he  only  admitted  him  into  his 
friendship  on  tolerance,  because  he,  too,  was  a 
favorite  of  the  )roung  lady's,  and  that  he  parted 
from  him  with  sublime  indifference. 

"  You  have  stolen  his  heart,"  said  the  Lieuten- 
ant, smiling ;  "  well,  it  is  an  old  trick  of  yours." 

Helen  left  Howling  Wolf  at  the  Indian  Indus- 
trial School  at  Carlisle,  in  Pennsylvania,  where  he 
mingled  with  several  hundred  other  Indian  youth. 
It  was  the  prettiest  home  he  had  ever  lived  in  — 
these  old  barracks  surrounding  a  grassy  plaza 
with  band-stand  in  the  centre  and  shady  trees  and 
cool  verandas.  He  wore  a  cadet  uniform  now 
with  brass  buttons  which  were  a  continual  delight 


THE    MEDICINE    FOUND.  245 

to  him,  and  over  which  his  fingers  played  contin- 
ually. His  long  locks,  purple-black  like  a  crow's 
plumage,  had  been  cut,  and  his  pony's  likeness 
was  covered  beneath  a  white  shirt  front ;  but  he 
learned  very  soon  to  be  as  proud  of  these  symbols 
of  civilization  as  he  had  been  of  his  bead-embroi- 
dered deer-skin  and  eagle's  feathers. 

He  sat  quietly  in  the  little  white  chapel  listen- 
ing to  sweet  hymns  and  the  simple  words  of  Jesus 
which  did  not  strike  him  now,  as  the  service  in  the 
Mexican  chapel  had  once  done,  as  a  Medicine- 
Dance.  He  studied  in  the  schoolroom,  though 
the  confinement  was  irksome  to  him,  with  earnest 
endeavor  because  the  beautiful  lady  had  told  him 
that  some  way  these  books  were  to  help  him  in 
finding  his  talisman. 

But  he  found  a  new  joy  and  interest  in  the 
trade  to  which  he  had  been  assigned.  He  was  to 
learn  tinsmithing.  The  bright  metal  fascinated 
him  at  once  ;  he  would  have  liked  to  cut  out  orna- 
ments with  the  great  shears,  moons  and  stars  from 
the  shining  sheets,  but  it  was  quite  as  amusing  to 
fashion  the  little  pans  and  cups.  It  reminded  him 


246       HOWLING   WOLF   AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

of  the  work  of  some  Navajo  silversmiths  which  he 
had  watched  with  interest,  and  he  soon  learned  to 
use  the  soldering  iron  with  great  deftness.  It 
was  a  proud  moment  for  him  when  he  made  all  by 
himself  an  army  canteen  similar  to  the  one  for 
which  the  Blanket  Weaver  had  paid  so  dearly,  and 
his  first  request  was  to  be  allowed  to  send  a  set  of 
cake  tins  to  Miss  Helen  and  a  couple  of  canteens 
of  his  own  make  to  his  friends,  Manuelito  and 
Tomas.  He  took  great  pride  in  his  work,  as  do 
all  the  boys  at  this  model  institution.  He  saw 
young  men  in  the  next  shop  making  wagons  which 
were  purchased  by  the  government  for  army  use. 
There  were  boys  from  the  wildest  tribes,  Coman- 
ches,  Kiowas,  Sioux,  Cheyennes  and  even  Apa- 
ches, with  a  score  of  other  tribes,  running  sewing 
machines  in  the  tailoring  establishment,  making  ex 
cellent  harnesses  and  shoes,  blacksmithing,  paint- 
ing, baking,  building  houses,  printing,  farming, 
acting  as  overseers,  as  musicians,  drilling  as  sol- 
diers, learning  the  duties  of  clerk,  hospital  steward, 
waiter,  caring  for  stock,  driving  teams,  making 
themselves  competent  and  useful  in  many  ways. 


THE   MEDICINE    FOUND.  247 

Summer  came  and  Howling  Wolf  noted  a  new 
feature ;  the  more  apt  of  these  who  had  been 
in  the  school  for  two  years  were  "  planted  out," 
or  allowed  to  work  for  themselves  during  vaca- 
tion. Many  found  homes  in  farmers'  families 
where  they  progressed  even  faster  than  at  the 
school,  and  learned  to  love  more  and  more  a  civ- 
ilized life,  and  to  appreciate  the  blessings  of  a 
Christian  home.  Howling  Wolf  had  not  spent  the 
usual  length  of  time  at  the  school,  but  the  pro- 
prietor of  a  large  canning  establishment  had  ap- 
plied for  hands,  and  the  boy  had  made  such 
progress  in  his  trade  that  he  was  allowed  to  go. 
This  glimpse  of  outer  life  had  its  usual  effect.  He 
experienced  the  first  thrill  of  earning  money,  he 
learned  to  measure  himself  by  white  boys  and  to 
find  that  he  could  do  as  good  work  as  the  other 
operatives.  He  made  several  acquaintances  who 
treated  him  kindly,  and  he  learned  that  white  men 
were  not  all  his  enemies.  He  saw  something  of 
business  and  the  large  way  in  which  it  was  con- 
ducted in  this  establishment  opened  his  mind  to 
broader  notions  of  the  way  white  men  amassed 


248        HOWLING    WOLF   AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

fortunes.  His  nights  were  spent  not  in  a  board- 
ing-house but  in  a  farmer's  home,  and  here  too  he 
was  constantly  imbibing  new  ideas.  He  went  back 
to  school  in  the  autumn  with  twenty-five  dollars 
laid  aside  and  a  new  trunk  of  his  own  purchase  — 
containing  a  mysterious  something  which  none  of 
his  fellow  students  were  allowed  to  see. 

On  the  very  day  of  his  return  he  had  an  inter- 
view with  Captain  Pratt,  the  large-hearted,  clear- 
headed superintendent  of  the  school. 

It  was  hard  for  him  to  explain  exactly  what  he 
wanted.  "At  Fort  Defiance,"  he  said,  "one  girl 
—  they  call  West  Wind  —  I  want  to  come  to  this 
school.  You  write  letter,  send  this  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, this  trunk  ;  maybe  she  come." 

"  This  West  Wind  is  your  sister  ?  "  asked  the 
Captain. 

"Pretty  near — all  same,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  But  if  she  comes,"  said  the  Captain,  "you  can 
then  give  her  the  trunk  ;  it  would  cost  a  great  deal 
to  send  it  to  Fort  Defiance,  and  it  would  trouble 
her  to  bring  it  back  with  her." 

Howling  Wolf  turned  an  imploring  look  to  Mrs. 


THE    MEDICINE    FOUND.  249 

Pratt.  "  Come  see,"  he  begged.  He  opened  the 
trunk  and  showed  the  interested  lady  a  girl's  dress, 
which  he  had  bought  at  some  store  of  ready-made 
clothing.  It  was  of  neat  gray  wool  goods,  for 
Howling  Wolf  had  selected  a  dress  as  nearly  as 
possible  like  that  which  the  beautiful  lady  wore 
who  had  spoken  to  him  in  New  Mexico.  There 
was  also  a  hat  and  a  pair  of  shoes  and  stockings. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt ;  "  you  wish 
West  Wind  to  have  these  things  ;  but  will  it  not 
do  to  give  them  to  her  after  she  arrives?  " 

The  boy  flushed.  "  I  don't  want  West  Wind  to 
look  like  Apache  when  she  comes,"  he  said  ;  "  old 
blanket,  bead  moccason,  no  stocking.  I  want  her 
look  all  same  white  girl.  Other  scholars  not 
laugh  at  West  Wind." 

"  They  shall  not  laugh  at  her,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt 
kindly.  "  I  will  write  to  friends  in  the  West  and 
we  will  see  how  we  can  manage  it ;  she  shall  come 
neatly  dressed  and  you  may  leave  this  trunk  in 
my  room  and  give  it  to  her  as  soon  as  she  arrives." 

It  so  happened  that  the  Lieutenant  was  coming 
East  on  important  business  to  himself,  and  West 


250        HOWLING    WOLF    AND    HIS   TRICK-PONY. 

Wind,  whose  mother  had  died,  was  very  willing  to 
accept  the  opportunity  of  education  offered  her. 
She  had  already  made  good  progress  at  the 
Agency  school,  and  Howling  Wolf  need  not  have 
trembled  for  her  appearance. 

The  joy  that  lit  up  the  boy's  manly  face  at  the 
reunion  was  something  good  to  see.  He  stepped 
up  to  the  Lieutenant  too,  and  gave  him  his  hand 
asking  for  Manuelito  and  Tomas,  who  were  quite 
happy  in  their  army  life,  and  thanked  him  for  the 
interest  which  he  had  at  last  learned  to  appreciate. 

"  Tell  Miss  Helen,"  he  said,  "  I  find  'em,  that 
Medicine ;  any  Indian  work  hard,  he  have  good 
luck  every  time." 

Howling  Wolf  still  studies  at  the  Training 
School.  He  will  be  a  superior  workman,  perhaps 
more,  for  he  has  developed  a  taste  for  original  ex- 
periment rare  in  a  boy  of  his  opportunities.  It 
all  came  from  a  desire  to  make  a  ring  for  West 
Wind  from  a  ten-cent  piece.  He  labored  over  it 
in  the  shop  at  odd  moments  and  became  inter- 
ested in  the  difference  between  silver  and  tin,  and 
from  this  fell  to  experimenting  with  lead,  brass, 


THE   MEDICINE    FOUND.  251 

iron,  every  metal  on  which  he  could  lay  his  hand. 
One  of  the  teachers  showed  him  a  small  cabinet 
of  minerals,  and  gave  him  some  simple  chemical 
tests  for  detecting  different  metals.  From  that 
time  he  developed  a  habit  of  observing  the  stones 
on  the  roadside,  searching  for  traces  of  ore. 

At  last,  one  day  —  and  this  showed  how  his 
love  for  scientific  inquiry  was  overcoming  his 
superstition  —  he  broke  his  eagle  fetich  in  pieces 
and  analyzed  it.  With  the  knowledge  that  this 
was  virgin  silver,  came  the  realization  that  he  had 
discovered  a  valuable  silver  mine.  But  he  knew, 
too,  that  he  could  never  secure  any  benefit  from  it 
to  himself.  Law  was  all  on  the  side  of  the  white 
man  ;  there  was  no  chance  for  the  Indian. 

As  he  sat  moodily  with  the  silver  in  his  hand,  a 
messenger  came  to  tell  him  that  a  visitor  wished 
to  see  him.  It  was  Miss  Helen,  Miss  no  longer, 
but  wife  of  the  Lieutenant,  who  had  stopped  at 
the  school  with  her  husband  on  her  way  West. 
"  What  have  you  brought  me  ? ''  she  asked,  noticing 
his  closed  fingers.  "  Is  it  a  wedding  present  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Howling  Wolf  replied  eagerly,  pouring 


252        HOWLING   WOLF    AND    HIS    TRICK-PONY. 

the  shining  grains  into  her  hand,  and  hurriedly  ex- 
plaining the  circumstances  of  his  finding  it,  and 
the  situation  of  the  mine.  "  The  Lieutenant  can 
secure  it  for  you  and  I  want  you  to  have  it,"  he 
added  with  great  earnestness. 

"  We  will  secure  it  for  you,  dear  fellow,"  Helen 
replied. 

But  Howling  Wolf  shook  his  head.  "  Govern- 
ment must  make  me  an  American  first,"  he  said. 

"  We  will  see,  we  will  see,"  said  the  Lieutenant 
cheerfully;  "  and  meantime  study  and  learn  all  you 
can  here  and  when  you  are  through,  if  you  like,  you 
shall  go  to  some  Technological  Institute  and  learn 
about  metallurgy  and  geology,  and  we  will  have 
you  a  prospector  or  assayer  one  of  these  days. 
My  wife  shall  own  the  mine  in  trust  for  you,  and 
you  must  fit  yourself  for  it.  The  Indian  shall  yet 
find  his  Lost  Medicine,  even  in  the  West." 


BCSB  LIBRARY 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


ftilii 


S« 


